


Cloak & Dagger-Legacy

by SonyaBlackmane



Series: Cloak & Dagger [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Cloak & Dagger Sequel, Creative Exploration, Creative Freedom, Definitely Inquisition Spoilers, F/M, Major Spoilers, Most Definitely Cloak & Dagger Spoilers, Non-Trespasser, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:37:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7268533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonyaBlackmane/pseuds/SonyaBlackmane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>11-06-17 Update: THIS WORK IS ON TEMPORARY HIATUS! WILL BE REVISED SOON!</p><p>Directly the sequel to An Inquisitor's Tale, the son of the famed Herald of Andraste and Warden Blackwall has landed in the last place he ever expected. Smackw dab in the middle of the Inquisition. Slowly, he starts to fall for a woman whom he's only read about in books, heard tales of. Can he resist temptation? Can he resist changing the fate of the woman he has fallen for, Cassandra Pentaghast?</p><p>(Contains spoilers for both Dragon Age: Inquisition, and Cloak & Dagger-An Inquisitor's Tale. I would advise not reading unless you've read the first in the Cloak & Dagger series.)</p><p>(Canon characters and content of Dragon Age: Inquisition are property of Bioware)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Last Place Expected...

     He fell through the portal and landed rather roughly on the ground below. No amount of snow could soften it, though as much as there was, it quickly engulfed him, freezing him to the core. He groaned, rolling over onto his back, to stare up at the sky. That was peculiar. There was some sort of green glow in the distance. Where the hell did he land? Was he not in Kirkwall any longer? The mage stood up, brushing the snow off his azure colored robes, and looked around. There was a village in the distance. He could hear the faint sounds of soldiers bustling, and the whinnying of horses. What village was it? He looked around and discovered why his landing had been so rough, though there was snow. He landed on a frozen lake, nothing but solid ice, with not but a thin layer of snowfall between it and him.

     There was movement ahead. Two soldiers approached. He recognized that armor. The sigil of the Templars. So he was in Orlais, then? He had friends in Orlais, his fellow members of the Circle of Magi. Knew the Grand Enchantress personally. Perhaps these Templars could point him to Val Royeux then, and he could make his way back home, somehow. The soldiers drew their swords as they approached.

     “You there! Mage! What are you doing in Haven?” one of the soldiers asked him.

     “What do you want with the Inquisition?” the other asked, both eyeing him warily.

     Haven? Wasn’t that a village in the Frostbacks? Yes, he remembered reading about it. There was a memorial stone there, dedicated to the fallen members of the...hold a moment. Did this man say _Inquisition_?!

     “I...I mean you no harm.” he said nervously, slowly setting down his staff, so that they would see he was no threat. “Inquisition soldiers, I presume?” he raised a brow.

     By the Maker. This had to be a dream. It couldn’t possibly be real. He only expected his teleportation spell to take him safely from where he had been. The ‘where’ was expected but....it was the ‘when’ that suddenly made his head spin, and heart race. It couldn’t be true...

     “Seeker Pentaghast will want to know about a lone mage wandering around the village.” remarked the first soldier to speak. The other nodded. “You’d better come with us.” he said as he picked up the staff lying in the snow.

     Haven...the Inquisition...Seeker Pentaghast?...

     Could it really be?...Had Gordon Rainier somehow teleported back? Back to where it all began? But...But that would mean... She was alive...The Seeker Pentaghast they referred to was no relative, no other than her...in the flesh. The woman he had read so many books about...she was alive. Cassandra Pentaghast was alive. Maker help him.

* * *

     Funny how it all began. As all stories have to start somewhere. That was what Varric always said. He was a writer. Wrote many interesting tales about his travels. Some part history, some were mere fantasies, tales told about the heroes of old, daring princes that rescued damsels in distress, saved the world from darkness. But one of those tales, he swore it was no fantasy, no fairytale, but truth. The most honest book he had ever written. A simple one. With a peculiar title, one that Varric never cared to share the meaning of. He said the title wasn’t what was important, but the words written inside the tome that mattered. The book was called Cloak & Dagger. Varric Tethras’ pride and joy. And Gordon’s favorite book.

     Gordon Rainier had ready many books about the famed Inquisition that was disbanded before he was born. In every library throughout Thedas, there was bound to be a book about it somewhere. All telling different versions of the truth. The events leading up to the discovery of the woman dubbed the ‘Herald of Andraste’, the woman believed to be sent by the Maker to save the world from what was known as the Breach, the insurrection of a Magister, called the Elder One, as even to that day, some were to frightened to speak his real name aloud. The battles fought against him, and his most loyal followers, battles led by the Herald, who soon became the leader of the Inquisition, prevailing over Thedas. The influence the Inquisition had on the people of Orlais and Ferelden, and how this woman, Ophelia Trevelyan, rescued a broken world. Ophelia Trevelyan, Gordon’s own mother.

     While he loved studying the history of the Inquisition as much as any other study, including that of magic, what he loved most was reading Varric’s book. It wasn’t a history book, and that was what he liked about it. It was more personal. Talked about the things that scholars in Orlais didn’t know about, were never aware of. More personal things. Specifically, it told of romance. How one lone Grey Warden, or, thought to be a Warden at the time, stole the heart of the Herald of Andraste. Gordon’s own father, Thom Rainier.

     But what he loved the most about Varric’s book was how he talked fondly of a woman named Cassandra Pentaghast. If not for her brash actions, the Inquisition would never have been what it was. If not for her making the quick decision to ally with a prisoner, who bore a mark of peculiar magic on her hand, they never would have accomplished all that they had. She was a soldier, Varric said, a Seeker of Truth. Right hand to Divine Justinia, at the time of the Divine’s rumored death, when the Temple of Sacred Ashes was destroyed in an explosion. But she was more than all that, according to Varric’s book. She was a woman of honor, loyalty, and duty. And one of Gordon’s mother’s closest friends.

     Until she died.

     That part of the book always worked Gordon up the most, whenever he read it. He’d read it many times over throughout the years, but that part always broke his heart. She died a hero, and he never got to meet her, never got to know her, for it was some time before he was ever born. He had met many others though. After completing his studies in the Circle in Val Royeux, understudy to Vivienne De Fer herself, he took personal time to himself to travel all over Thedas in search of the people his parents had met, changed the lives of. To hear their stories, to put faces to the names, so to speak. To learn of his family’s legacy. Many of them he did meet, those that still lived, and heard their tales of the short lived days of the ‘reformed Inquisition’...but he would never meet Cassandra.

     Or so he thought.

* * *

     Gordon’s heart raced in his chest as he allowed the soldiers to escort him to Haven’s gate. There, more soldiers waited, villagers, healers and servants. Though no mages that he could see. He wondered precisely where they were, trying to fathom _when_ exactly he was, and whether or not anyone would see him as a threat. Eyes were upon him though. Glancing his direction, whispering to one another, as he followed the soldiers up to the Chantry. It was a big enough chapel, where once upon a time, the Herald sat, with three advisers, planning and plotting the best courses of action against the threat outside their door. Only, it wasn’t once upon a time. It was happening right now, wasn’t it? That green light he saw in the sky...it was the Breach, wasn’t it?

     Gordon felt a little sick to his stomach. He should’ve ran when he saw the soldiers approaching. Should’ve ran the other way, away from Haven. Maker help him, how much would he change just by being there? Would he never be born?...There she was, when they entered the Chantry. Though she looked much different than he remembered. Short brown hair, a scout coat draped over her shoulders, talking to a woman in a hood.

     “I’d better get to Hinter, then.” she said to the woman with a warm voice, full of laughter. Oh, it was her alright, evident when she turned around. His mother, Ophelia. Looking so young, even. Perhaps younger than him. Vibrant, flushed cheeks, not a wrinkle in sight, he almost couldn’t believe it was her. He did when her brow wrinkled in sight of him.

     “Who is he?” she asked the soldiers, her tone certainly not one of amusement. Surely...she wouldn’t recognize him, would she?...Interesting thought...Would she be able to tell they were related? Or even ask?...How the hell was he going to get out of this? Get out of here?

     “Found him wandering outside Haven, Herald. Figured the Seeker would want to interrogate him.” one of the soldiers stated, making his mother snort a little.

     “Cassandra is very good at a lot of things, soldier. Interrogating isn’t one of them.” she shook her head, and chuckled a little. The soldier shrugged, then nodded his head towards Gordon’s staff that the other soldier carried.

     “A mage I see. So...rebel. State your purpose.” his mother folded her arms, looking him over.

     “I...uh...” he didn’t know what to say. What could he say that she would actually believe? Judging by the green light in the sky, she had yet to ally with the Templars to close the breach, he assumed. She called him a rebel...assuming he was a mage who rebelled against the Circle of Magi, and fought against Templars she meant to ally with...and she didn’t trust magic. Well, at least not before he was born, anyway.

     Shit....wait...Solas. The Apostate. One who allied with the Inquisition, saved his mother’s life, keeping the Anchor from killing her. Was he there? He cleared his throat.

     “I’m no rebel.” he assured her, trying to sound convincing. “I’m an Apostate.” he said.

     “Technically all mages are Apostates, these days.” she mused.

     “I’ve never been apart of a Circle.” he lied. “I have nothing to do with those that rebel against them. I’ve no reason to.”

     His mother shrugged. “Fair enough. Let’s say I believe you, Apostate. Why have you come to Haven, then?”

     “I...I wanted to join the Inquisition.” he mustered. She raised a brow.

     Before another word could be said, a door opened behind them. At the end of the hall he could see a woman stepping out of a room, there was a table in that room...could it be? The war council he read about? The woman closed the door and walked toward them...Shining armor...shield strapped to her back...sword at her side, the way she grasped the hilt as she walked...short, black hair...scar on her cheek...Maker’s breath...it couldn’t be.

     “Who is this man, Herald?” the woman asked, her Nevarran accent giving away who she was. Gordon swallowed nervously.

     “He claims to be an Apostate, seeking to join the Inquisition’s ranks.” the Herald smirked a little, displaying the obvious, that she didn’t believe him. “What do you suggest we do with him, Seeker?”

     “We need _every_ ally, Herald.” she glanced at him. “If you prove you can be trusted, perhaps you can help us. Will be hard to do, I imagine.” she said dryly as she turned her gaze back to Gordon’s mother.

      Glaring eyes....cynical words...it had to be her...

     “You can decide that then.” said the Herald. “Leliana asked me to go to the Hinterlands. I leave this...mage in your care.” she looked him over once more, before turning and leaving the Chantry. The soldiers left as well, surrendering Gordon’s staff to him. Leaving him alone with...

     “You’re Cassandra Pentaghast.” he said, more to himself then her. Trying to hide his excitement, nervousness, and utter dread at what could happen with him there. So funny in a way, though. The Herald was going to the Hinterlands? Alone? That meant he had arrived on the precise day his mother met his father. And Maker’s breath, that was what she was doing right now, at that moment. He couldn’t believe it. But at least his arrival hadn’t changed that...he hoped.

     “You’ve heard of me?” the Seeker raised a brow.

     “Yes. You’re...the right hand of the Divine...or,” he cleared his throat. “You were...I’m sorry. I heard about the Conclave...the Divine...” he stopped speaking as he noticed the expression on her face. It was ironic. He always pictured her much older, by the way Varric described her. But...they looked close in age. And she was...Maker, she was striking...

     “Yes, well, since you’ve heard of me,” she held her head high. “Then you know I am a Seeker of Truth...Should I discover you cannot be trusted, know that that staff of yours _won’t help you_.” she scathed. “Follow me.” she barked, as she swung open the wide Chantry door and stepped out into the light.

     He wanted to laugh. Maker help him, he wanted to burst out laughing at a time like this?


	2. An Interesting First Impression

     Cassandra didn’t quite know what to think of the strange mage that came to join the Inquisition, or so he said. But something was familiar about him. Though she couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was. He was fairly tall, broad shoulders. She almost expected him to be a warrior, not a spell caster. With long, dark hair pulled back in a braid at the nape of his neck, strands of it falling in his face, a bit of scruff on his cheeks. Not old, but not young. In between, she supposed, similar to her own age. And there was something about his eyes that was familiar...something in the way he smiled a little at the corner of his mouth when he spoke. And he spoke with a similar accent to Ophelia’s. She guessed that like her, he was from the Free Marches, up north. And guessed that he was lying about who he was. Though she didn’t know why.

     He followed her out of the Chantry and down the steps, following her through Haven’s gate. Out there, there were unfilled tents, one of which he could make himself at home, provided he could be trusted.

     “You can sleep there.” she pointed to one of the tents. “I would advise you to not use magic around the soldiers.” she commented, eyeing his staff. An interesting one. It didn’t look cheaply made, and had a curious blue orb embedded in the tip. His robes weren’t cheap either. Orlesian silk, perhaps? Blue, with gold trim, and ornate design, though they looked a little worn from travel. Surely this man was no wandering Apostate...It was most curious.

     “So, who are you...really?” she asked, folding her arms.

     “I am simply a man that wants to put the world back in order.” he said, perhaps a little defensively. He looked up at the sky. “In case you haven’t noticed, Seeker, there is a hole in the sky, you know.” he looked back at her. She eyed him carefully. “Have something against mages?” he asked.

     She sighed. “Unless you’ve been living under a rock...which clearly you haven’t...war carries on outside this village, mage.” she stated. “Those that rebel against their Circles, against the Chantry itself. Templars hunting them, and neither side seems to care about the hole in the sky.” she placed her hands on her hips. “Pardon me if I question your motives.” she said tersely. He chuckled.

     “Why do you laugh?” she asked.

     “I'm aware of all this, Seeker. It’s just...” he sighed. “You’re not quite what I pictured you would be.” he said with a smile.

     He had a handsome smile.

     “What do you mean I’m...’not what you pictured’?” she couldn’t help but scour. Wondered what he meant. She wasn’t sure if it was meant as a compliment, or...

     “It’s...hard to explain.” he said. And just smiled at her. She sighed.

     “Well...you’re not the _first_ Apostate mage to surrender his staff to the Inquisition, nor offer aid to our cause...” she admitted to him. “Fine. You can stay...I suppose. But do not think I won’t be keeping an eye on you. And trust me when I say, there are eyes everywhere in this place.”

     “Of course, Seeker.” he bowed a little when he said that.

     “What’s in the bag?” she asked, changing the subject, curious of what he carried on his person. Finding it surprising the guards hadn’t thought to take it from him and inspect it. She’d have to do something about that carelessness.

     “Just some food for travel. Wine for my worries.” he chuckled. “And a book.”

     “A spellbook?” she assumed. He shook his head.

     “No. Just an ordinary book. Something to read in my spare time. No _dangerous_ contents, I assure you.” he grinned.

     The way he smiled at her...it unnerved Cassandra. There was a twinkle in his eye. He knew who she was, and probably knew more than what he led on. She still didn’t quite believe anything he said, but...perhaps he _was_ there to help. But why? It would be dark soon. Within the hour. Perhaps she should sneak into his tent, go through his things while he slept...take a look at this book he spoke of...Oh, such silly thoughts. Was she really that kind of person? That was more like something Leliana would do. Not her. No, _she_ was direct. None of that sneaking around in the night business. She was never any good at it. Never suited for it. Solved more problems with the blade of her sword than anything else. Her instincts told her just to stab him right then and there, before he had a chance to power his staff.

     But she _was_ curious of him.

     “I shall take my leave.” he said. “I’ll see to becoming more acquainted with this place.” he glanced around as he spoke, before his gaze fell back upon her. “Don’t worry, I promise I will be no trouble.”

     That part she believed, at least. He said it earnestly. She nodded, dismissing him, and watched him walk away, wandering aimlessly at first, until he stopped for a moment to watch the soldiers training in the yard, watch Cullen bark orders at the young men, complaining about how low they were holding their shields. Cassandra had to check herself. She realized she was staring at him, perhaps a bit longer than she should have. And not in the way that an individual should carefully watch an Apostate. No, the way she looked at him. Maker, it made her blush.

     She couldn’t deny he was attractive. Though, considering the circumstances, and the fact that there were a hundred things more important at the moment, admiring this mage was probably the last thing she should be doing. Maybe she was being entirely foolish about the whole thing. She didn’t trust Ophelia at first either, but so far she proved well enough that she only wanted to aid the Inquisition and clear her name. Same with Solas. He willingly surrendered to the Inquisition to give them the knowledge of the Fade that he possessed, as he was one of the few who studied it so extensively. Not being apart of any Circle allowed him to gain such knowledge. Perhaps....just maybe, she could trust this mage too. After all, if it hadn’t been for Solas, Ophelia would’ve surely perished, and they would not have the Herald of Andraste closing rifts that appeared in the Breach’s wake. She sighed in thought of it. She had to believe all of it happened for a reason. That it was the will of the Maker that allowed everything to be so. In fact, maybe it was the _Circle mages_ that retreated to Redcliffe that she couldn’t trust...

     She groaned a little. This mage appearing, seeking to join them, distracted her from insisting on going with Ophelia to the Hinterlands. Though she had magic on her hand that could dispel demons, Cassandra didn’t rightly believe she would be safe on her own. And though they managed to quell the fighting temporarily in Hinter, and reported rifts, at least, what if there were other things out there that could hurt her? Sure, she was sent by the Maker, but...she was only a young woman. She didn’t even look old enough to be married...No, no it was a silly thought. She had mentioned being a bounty hunter back in Ostwick, before the Conclave. She could handle her own, couldn’t she? Cassandra could only hope. And in the mean time, only grow more curious of the mage that left the training yard and wandered up to the main gate.

     How foolish of her. She hadn’t even asked what his name was.

* * *

     Gordon had a plan. All worked out in his mind, flawless...nearly. He’d wait until nightfall, when surely the majority of the soldiers would be asleep, carefully slip out of his tent, and out of the village. And when he was a safe enough distance away from it, he’d try and open a portal again. See if he couldn’t get back to his own time, where he belonged, before he disrupted anything further. But he didn’t even know if it would work. A miracle it worked the first time. Though he was still trying to grasp how the spell had led him to a _different time_. Years into the past. It was only meant to take him to a different place. Away from those that chased him. And if he went back, and nothing had drastically changed, would they still be waiting for him? Would he still be hunted? Or would he ever get free?

     What if he was _meant_ to be there, in the past? What if he didn’t change anything at all, but served to aid in making things happen the way they had? Just like in Cloak, his mother ventured off to the Hinterlands, in search of a Warden, all by herself. And the book never mentioned what happened in Haven while she was gone. It was...well it was mostly about _her_ , after all. Varric had written it for her, and his father. As a personal gift, only shared among friends. It wasn’t exactly an acclaimed history novel. But it never mentioned anyone like him, a lone mage, claiming to be an Apostate, showing up at that time...He sighed...if he was there, at any point, he must not have made too much of an impact. Never did anything important enough to get mentioned in any book. But so far, at least he hadn’t disappeared, hadn’t done anything to stop himself from existing.

     Or maybe he wouldn’t. Perhaps as long as he was there, his own time-line still existed, suspended, like a parallel world. And the minute he left, if he was able to return, he would then cease to exist.

     It was too much to think about. Too much to swallow.

     But there she had been. The very woman that had captivated him over the years, and...well she was more than he ever thought she would be. A lot more beautiful too. He expected someone more...manly, he supposed. Though, yes, Cassandra Pentaghast was a bit boyish, she was...Oh, he couldn’t deny it. At least not to himself. The woman exceeded expectation. He could try and deny, or rationalize, or whatever he wanted, but the truth was...he didn’t want to leave, even if he could. Not yet. Not until he got to know her. He had spent years wishing he could. Wishing he could meet the woman he read about so often.

     Maybe he could stay for a little while. Perhaps, as long as he stayed out of his mother’s way, he wouldn’t change anything drastic.

     He could only hope.

     ...It was certainly different, sleeping in a tent. He wasn’t used to it. He was no spoiled noble brat, but when he traveled, he did so by carriage, and had a far nicer arrangement than this one. This ragged tent where he lay his head when it got dark. And it was ever so cold, even with the fire lit outside. It was dying down, and he was fighting with the thin wool blankets he was wrapped up in, when he heard the faintest scrape. It was the flap of the tent opening. Immediately, he reached out to grab whatever it was, pulling it inside. There was a yelp of surprise, a woman’s voice. And a thump, followed by an ‘oof’, coming from his own lips when the woman tripped and fell on top of him. It was the Seeker. It was Cassandra.

     “What in the blazes are you doing, Seeker?” he laughed, as she clambered off of him.

     “I...um...well...Oh, Maker.” she groaned. “I was trying to...and, well, you...I was...” she groaned again. “I thought you were asleep. I should’ve known better. I should’ve just trusted you, but I...” she looked up at him. She was inches from his face. She sighed. “I was...going to go through your things. I wanted to know if you could truly be trusted.” she admitted, hanging her head in shame.

     “A bit rude, don’t you think?” he chuckled. “Going through a stranger’s things? You could’ve just asked.” he shrugged.

     “You’re right. I should’ve. I just...” he could barely make out her face in the dark, but he could tell how embarrassed she was. “I am...sorry, Mister...”

     Fuck. He never thought of that. What he would actually say if someone asked him who he was. He hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. He very well wasn’t going to give his real name, now was he? That would be interesting to explain when Thom Rainier showed up. _Yes, Thom, I’m Gordon, your son, and you named me after the very man you’re impersonating right now_...Bloody hell.

     “My friends call me Thane.” he came up with, off the top of his head. Hoping he didn’t take too long coming up with something, making her suspicious.

     “Thane.” she repeated quietly. “It’s a...pleasure to formally meet you, then, Thane.” she held out her hand, meaning for him to shake it. Slowly he took it in his, noting on how warm it was, as it was freezing inside that tent.

     “You’d better get back up to your cabin, Seeker, before you catch you death out here.” he said, as he let go of her hand.

     “Yes, it is...rather cold out here, isn’t it?” she asked, rubbing her hands together. “Shame there’s no more room in the village for anyone. We’ve barely enough supplies, or beds even, for anyone here.” she sighed. “We may all die of frostbite before we ever get the chance to close the Breach.” she said bitterly.

     “Maker only knows what tomorrow will bring.” he said encouragingly, smiling, hoping it would lift her spirit just then.

     “True.” she said, before leaning her head to the side, though he couldn’t guess why. Couldn’t see her face, and guessed she couldn’t see his.

     “Goodnight.” she said abruptly, and disappeared through the tent, and out into the night.

     He chuckled. He never would’ve guessed the Seeker of all people would try and sneak into his tent. Wasn’t Sister Leliana the Spymaster?...And was Cassandra really this...flustered of a person? This surprised him as well. She was written as such the confident individual. But this woman...stammered and blushed like a young girl. He flopped back against the unforgiving pillow behind him.

     Maker, this would be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I have, in fact, decided that delving into how Gordon arrived in the past will probably appear in flashbacks. With each character he comes in contact with, I may do a lot of comparison between how they are in Inquisition, and how Gordon remembers them in the future.)
> 
> (Also, sketches of Gordon, and the Inner Circle, the way he remembers them, will be added. Probably to Cloak & Dagger's Instagram page.)
> 
> (And of course, the little tidbit of him getting in the way of Cassandra going with Ophelia?...words to chew on. ;) Could it be possible he was there all along? Will he end up changing things?...We shall soon see...)


	3. Seek the Truth, Seeker...

     Gordon kept his head down, and his mouth shut. It was the only thing he could do, honestly, as with each day, the idea of leaving was slowly becoming almost non-existant. Everywhere he turned there was always someone watching. If not the soldiers, it was the Seeker, carefully watching him like a hawk. Not that he minded, as it gave him every excuse to accidently bump into her around every turn. But she was slacking off on her careful watch, perhaps even starting to trust him, especially since he came in handy to lift heavy things, and there was always something that needed done. He was particularly helpful to the potions master, and the more he helped others, the less and less Cassandra eyed him with concern, starting to see that she could trust him. Until one day, the day after the Herald of Andraste returned from the Hinterlands with a certain Grey Warden, Cassandra stopped watching him altogether.

     He stepped out of the main gate, still eyed with scrutiny by some of the soldiers present, former Templars, Gordon assumed, that were still rather mistrusting, but he was left alone as he walked across the snow ridden path toward the training yard. There, by the tents, was a Seeker who normally trained in that spot, relentlessly smacking the poor wooden practice dummies with her impressive sword. But that day, she was just standing there, sword sheathed at her side, arms folded, staring at something over by the stables. Gordon couldn't resist walking up to her, standing beside her, also folding his arms and looking the direction of the stables...seeing Ophelia Trevelyan leaning against a wooden post next to Warden Blackwall. Was that what Cassandra was concerned about?

     "So, what are we staring at?" he asked, startling the Seeker.

     "Maker!" she exclaimed, clutching her chest. "I turn my back for one moment, and here you are, sneaking up on me."

     "I didn't mean to, I swear." he defended with a smile.

     She breathed raggedly for a moment, screwing her attractive face up into a scour, glaring at him for a moment. It was hard to keep from grinning. She said nothing for a moment, simply turned back to watching the Herald, letting out a gust of air, fidgeting.

     "Something happened to her." she speculated aloud. "The Herald." she clarified, as if he didn't know who she was speaking of. "Before she left for Hinter, she was...different. Much different than she is now. And since she has returned, I can't help but wonder what happened between her and this Warden she brought with her. Leliana informed me that she was only meant to question him of the other Wardens gone missing, but...she returns, with no information on them, yet...with _him_. And she's been talking to him all morning. Should I be worried?" she glanced up at Gordon for a moment, who shrugged.

     "Depends. What do you think he's going to do?" he asked, and the Seeker sighed.

     "I don't know." she answered. "Right now, we need every ally we can get behind our cause. That's precisely the reason you're here." she shot him a sideways glance. "Grey Wardens are a respectible order, and to have at least one of them is better than none. Could be good for us. Yet...The way she looks at him. I don't understand. Why does she look at him like that?"

     Gordon chuckled, as he watched Cassandra's features contort with confusion.

     "Maker's breath." he muttered. "She likes him, Seeker." he informed.

     "She... _likes_ him? Well, if it were true, it would explain a lot. Though, she is so young. But little more than a child. She is fairly skilled with a blade, but she barely understands how important to the world she is. And he's older. Surely they are not...surely they can't..." she grimaced, though Gordon couldn't be sure why. "It would be nice to know what happened to warrant such behavior. The only thing she mentioned was that they were ambushed by bandits. No trouble. It was delt with."

     "Eh, perhaps he saved her life? Stopped an arrow from hitting her pretty face?" he chuckled, remembering those were the exact words his father used. Then he clamped his mouth shut. His sense of humor was going to get him discovered, for certain. Best to not make comments like that again.

     "Perhaps...I...I honestly don't know why I'm telling you all of this." Cassandra said then. "Added to the fact that I'm spying on the Herald." she shook her head. "I had good reason to spy on _you_ , of course, but not her. I know she is innocent, I know she did not cause the explosion. But she's so...I should have went with her. If not for needing to keep an eye on you, I would have. But it won't happen again. Next time she ventures off on her own, I'll be able to assist her." she turned to Gordon. "You are officially off your leash."

     Had he just heard correctly? That Cassandra needing to keep a watchful eye on him was the reason the Herald went alone to the Hinterlands? By Andraste's grace, that was the best news he'd heard all day. He'd...why, he'd actually made it happen, hadn't he?...Or, well, at least he hadn't caused things to change drastically, at any rate, even if he hadn't been there the first time. His mother still went off alone, and became infatuated with Warden Blackwall, and as long as he kept his nose out of things, and refrained from speaking too much of things he shouldn't know, he wouldn't change anything, would he? Hell, he'd made it happen. He wanted to laugh.

     "Ah...that's thoughtful of you." he smirked at Cassandra's 'releasing of him from her care', then changed his tune to one a bit more serious. "I'm glad you saw fit to trust me, Seeker. I won't let your good graces be wasted on me." he nodded.

     "It's good too hear that." Cassandra nodded in turn. "I... _did_ do the right thing, didn't I? Choosing to trust you? Here, you've been helpful to us, with no complaint, and you've done no one harm. I...must apologize if I came off rather harsh to you. It's...not that I don't trust mages. I had hopes for peace as much as the next person. But until we know who's behind the Breach, we must all be careful, I suppose."

     "It's quite alright, Seeker." Gordon relented.

     Lady Trevelyan turned from conversation with the Warden, and started to turn her gaze Cassandra's direction, to which both she and Gordon averted their gaze, as if they weren't just staring at the Herald while they talked. Gordon leaned against a post, and watched as Cassandra drew her sword once more and mercilessly sparred with the target in front of her. There was silence for a moment, the only sounds being the thwack of her sword, along with soldiers nearby, recruits, being trained by Commander Rutherford. The Herald, of course, avoided approaching, rather detesting of Gordon's company, and instead walked the opposite direction, back toward the village, then through the gate.

     It was so strange. That one of the few people he'd ever been close to in his life, his own mother, was the most offended by him. But of course, right now, at that very moment, the year was 9:41, and at the moment, this version of Ophelia Trevelyan had yet to go through everything that changed her. Maker, it felt like a dream. And there, in front of him, equally a dream, was Cassandra Pentaghast, who looked absolutely ashamed for gawking at the Herald of Andraste. The way she hacked that wood to pieces. A bit terrifying to watch.

     "You're kind of a force of nature, aren't you?" he commented offhand with a smirk, watching her spar. It made her pause, and look his way for a moment. "It's impressive."

     "You're...flattering me?" she asked, starting to blush, but wrinkling her brow in concern. Well, it did sound like that, didnt it?

     "I could be." he rubbed his chin, then scratched the bit of scruff on his face. "You're not going to hit me for complimenting you, are you?" he leaned his head back, bracing himself, as if any moment she'd take a swing at him, judging by her expression.

     "I might." she narrowed her gaze. Then she sighed, leaning on her sword like a cane, staring at the ground. "I hope I did the right thing. What I have set in motion here, rebuilding the Inquisition...or trying to...It could destroy everything I have revered my whole life. One day they may write about me as a traitor, a madwoman, and a fool. And they may be right."

     "You don't seem to me like the sort that will let that stop you." Gordon remarked.

     "No, maybe not." Cassandra smirked a little. "My trainers always told me, 'Cassandra, you're too brash. You must think before you act.' I see what must be done, and I do it. When I saw that mark on Lady Trevelyan's hand...I knew. I knew what must be done, and I did not let my doubts cloud my judgement. If this is the Maker's plan, I cannot be sure, but...I followed my instinct, and I was right. I was right to believe that she can close the Breach. But she cannot do it alone. And now, my instinct tells me yet again, to trust. People like you may be just what I need to convince her to go to Redcliffe. We need more magic poured into the mark. Perhaps more of Fiona's followers will be likeminded with you, and help us."

    Gordon gaped at Cassandra.

     "I...forgive me." she cleared her throat. "Everything I just said...I find you so easy to talk to. You're...a good listener."

     "Was...was that a compliment, Seeker?" he joked involuntarily. He joked a lot when he was nervous, and right now his nerves were completely on edge, if what he just heard was correct. Cassandra was going to convince the Herald to ally with _mages_?!...Cassandra groaned.

     "Well, you take the Breach seriously, at least. If nothing else." she pursed her lips, scowling, embarrassed to all end, and here he was frozen, and didn't know how to respond.

     "I...I'm sorry." he said then, and abruptly turned to leave, heading back toward the village, his heart feeling like it was going to leap right out of his chest. This...this wasn't good. Not at all. No, he wasn't supposed to be there, was he? Him being there convinced Cassandra they should ally with the rebels in Redcliffe? He didn't remember anything about this in the book. Shit. What was he going to do?

     He made up his mind. He had to leave. As soon as possible, he had to get back to his own time, while he still could. Before he ruined everything.

* * *

     Cassandra was confused. What just happened?

     Thane apologized to her, then, unexpectedly, took off. Racing up the path, almost running, but certainly walking as fast as he could to get away from her. What had she said to warrant such behavior from him? It was...odd. Since he arrived at Haven, Cassandra realized early on that his sarcasm and joking attitude were simply his nature, much in the same as Varric tended to joke of just about anything and everything. Of course, he rarely spoke to anyone, other than her. And he was rather flighty, shy, perhaps? Or just nervous, due to the number of Templars at Haven. But he joked a lot. She learned to take little offense by what he said.

     Wait...his face turned ghostly white when she mentioned allying with those that fled the Circles, hadn't he? Was that what his problem was? So, was she right to think he was a rebel, and that he was lying about it? And if Fiona's forces showed up at Haven, he'd be made?...

     He was going to run, wasn't he? He was going to leave Haven. Dammit. They would need his magic, need every mage they could get, to aid Ophelia. He couldn't leave. Cassandra needed him. She could use him to convince Ophelia that she was simply being overly foolish with her mistrust in magic. True, that magic could be dangerous, and not all mages were good and honest people...But Ophelia was rediculously paranoid about any magic, to the point that she minced words with Solas before she left for the Hinterlands. No, Cassandra didn't rightly trust the elf at first, but he did save Ophelia's life, and theirs, by aiding the Inquisition.

     She sheathed her sword and walked briskly up the steps, gliding right past Varric, before stopping short and turning back to him.

     "Which way did Thane go?" she asked him, and the dwarf looked at her as if shocked that she would speak to him. Then he smirked, an odd twinkle lingering in his eyes.

     "He went that way, Seeker." he pointed, chuckling, and Cassandra had no time to ask as to why he was laughing at her. Groaning at the look her gave her, she pressed on, trying not to trip over her own feet as she climbed the steps, headed the direction Varric pointed.

     When she was close to the Chantry, she could just barely make out a blur of blue coattail, darting between a crowd of people gathered in front of the Temple. She was quite certain it was him, he was slipping between the Temple and the building to the right of it, so she followed, pushing past villagers. She could be certain what he was doing, but she guessed he was attempting to find another way out of the village, for if he simply walked out into the snow, past the main gate, everyone would notice him leaving. He clearly didn't want anyone to notice his absence until he was long gone.

     She found him behind Adan's cabin, pacing, as if debating upon what to do, perhaps having second thoughts. No one was within earshot. No one would hear her speak to him, and no one would hear him admit the truth, should he be worried of anyone hearing it.

     "Thane." she addressed, and he whirled around to gape at her, wide eyed, and speechless. She sighed, putting her hands up defensively, hoping he wouldn't get the idea that she would attack him for any reason and draw his staff. "I had my suspicions at first, but...I couldn't be sure...You... _were_  member of a Circle, weren't you?" she asked him, and still, he said nothing, merely stood frozen in place. "You did not need to lie." she amended, slowly putting down her hands to hang at her sides.

     "I have to leave." he said, strain in his voice. "I can't stay here a minute longer. I'm sorry."

     "The Inquisition has a greater threat in the sky, a threat that will doom all of us, regardless of magical ability." she stated evenly. "It doesn't matter if you were a rebel or not, Thane. We are all a part of the Inquisition now. No one here will condemn you. I will not allow it."

     He let out a ragged breath. "You don't understand, Cassandra. I _have_ to leave."

     "Why, then?" she asked. "Why must you leave?" she stepped closer to him, carefully, hoping and praying to the Maker she didn't sound angry with him. In truth, she wasn't. More or less she pitied him, at the moment. He looked terribly distraught.

     "The Herald will see that a rebel mage was willing to ally with us, for the greater threat we face. She will not condemn you. No one here will...You need not fear anyone learning the truth."

     He shook his head. "I...don't care about that. I...can't explain it, Cassandra. I can't..." he shook his head again.

     "Then what is wrong?" she wrinkled her brow, suddenly wary of his behavior. "Is there something I should know?"

     "Don't...don't go to Redcliffe." he said.

     "Why?" she pressed. "What do you know?"

     "Don't ask me that, Seeker." he warned, running his fingers through his hair in his distress, admittedly, in a sort of attractive way. Maker, what in the world could be bothering him so much, that he couldn't say?

     "Has something happened in Redcliffe?" she asked. "Have Fiona's mages done something, Thane?...Please, tell me whatever it is. I will not hold you responsible...Did they cause the Breach? Were they behind it? Are you protecting someone? Someone you care about?"

     He shook his head, and sighed. "You're not going to just let me leave, are you?"

     "No, I'm not." she asserted. "Not until you give me a proper answer. Then, fine. If you want to leave, so be it. I will not stop you." He looked up when she said that, from where he stared at the snow on the ground between them.

     "I should never have come here in the first place." he said quietly, then he sighed again. "I cannot tell you why, but you must not go to Redcliffe. You must seek the Templars' assistance, Seeker. Do what you do, seek the truth. But don't ask anymore of me. For I can't tell you. You have to find out for yourself."

     He moved to walk past her, as if he were going to go back to the village. She put a hand up to stop him, making contact with his chest. This was...all very strange. She stared up at him for a moment, searching his eyes, trying to find the secret buried in them that he would not relent verbally.

     "If I do this, and ask no more questions, will you stay? Will you help us?" she asked, then she removed her hand from his chest when she felt how fast his heart was beating. He was nervous as anything, and suddenly, so was she. This was the first she'd touched him since she stumbled upon him in his tent. It was a very long and silent moment between them, as she stared up at him, and there was a lump in her throat, and she didn't very well know why. At least, not at the moment.

     "I will." he finally said. Cassandra let out the breath she'd been holding at those words, and nodded, stepping aside to let him pass by her. He bowed just a little, and left the small clearing they'd been encased in, finding his way back to the Chantry. Of course, she would ask no more questions. But that didn't mean she wouldn't find other ways to get information out of him. After all, did he not just say 'seek the truth'? That she would do. But perhaps this time around, she'd get Leliana's advice on how to handle it, before she made another blunder. She planned to save herself another awkward, embarrassing moment with this man like she experienced in his tent. She'd fallen right on top of him, and was fairly certain she touched parts of him that were...highly innappropriate.

     Maker help her, how he made her blush like a foolish girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the long wait for an update!


	4. Trust Me

     "A Circle?" Leliana repeated. "How can you be sure, Cassandra?"

     Cassandra sighed. She couldn't be sure. But everything in her gut told her he was part of one. She admitted this to Sister Leliana in the privacy of the counciling chamber, and only to the Left Hand. No one else. No one but the Spymaster needed to know of this strange information begotten by Thane as of yet. Not until they knew why he didn't want them going to Redcliffe, why he didn't want them allying with mages.

     "His clothes, for one." she suggested.

     "Clothes can be stolen, Cassandra." Leliana argued passively with nare a bat of an eyelash. The Seeker shrugged.

     "I can't be sure." she admitted. "But something tells me there's more going on than we've yet to know. I just...don't know what to do about it yet." Cassandra sat with her head propped up by her hand, rubbing her temple. Leliana moved to sit across from her, leaning back in her chair, looking her over, studying her.

     "You look upset by this. Dreadfully so." Leliana commented as Cassandra chewed her lip in thought. Going over Thane's strange behavior in her mind. "If he was one of Fiona's, he could have been sent to spy on us, and intends to return to Redcliffe with the Inquisition's intentions. Perhaps I should have him followed." Leliana suggested.

     "I don't think that's the reason he's here." Cassandra argued. "He looked...frightful at the idea that Fiona should come to Haven, and see him here. I think he betrayed her by coming here, and does not want to be discovered."

     "Why would he not come forward with this information?" Leliana asked. A reasonable question. But the Spymaster asked yet another, a less reasonable, but logical question. "Do you think it could be that he knows the Herald? Knows something we don't about her?" Cassandra's eyes darted to Leliana's. "She's been stalling. Her investigation of the Wardens is over. The trail is cold. Yet, still she has not made a desicion with who to ally with."

     "What are you saying, Leliana?" Cassandra asked, narrowing her gaze.

     "I'm saying that though she remembers nothing of the explosion, or how the mark got on her hand...she _may_ know who is responsible for it. It's certainly possible that Thane knows this...If Thane is even his real name. If he lied about being an Apostate, he could have also used a false name as well. But Thane avoids Lady Trevelyan like a plague. I'm most certain it's because he knows her."

     Cassandra soaked this in for a moment, before letting out a groan.

     "No." she said. "No, I'm not ready to believe that Ophelia is withholding information from us. Thane, yes. You may be right about him, but not Ophelia. My gut tells me she doesn't know anymore than we do. And thus the reason she hesitates. She wants to be sure she is making the right decision. The one that will close the Breach. That's all she cares about."

     "Not anymore." Leliana corrected. "If you haven't noticed, Seeker, the Herald has become awfully distracted by Warden Blackwall. Perhaps he's in on it. And so are the other Wardens. Until we know who to trust in this, we're all sitting ducks, with the Breach ever present above us."

     Cassandra sighed. "Then we should find out who Thane really is. We can't come out and accuse Ophelia of anything. She has the mark capable of closing the Breach, and regardless of what she does or doesn't know, we need her."

     "Good move." Leliana agreed. "My information on Blackwall was limited, but I will continue to watch him, discreetly, as well. I...know you care about her, Cassandra. She's just a child. She may have been masquerading as a bounty hunter back home, playing her little game bringing in criminals to justice, but this is new for her, same as us. The threat we face is unlike any other. But...we cannot be blind because of our need for her. If we should learn that the Herald had anything to do with-"

     "I will handle it, Sister." interrupted Cassandra. "She's here because of me. I will take responsibility. The same with Thane. I will see if I can find out who he is, but..."

     "But what?" Leliana inquired. Cassandra chewed her lip nervously once more.

     "I don't have the skills at deception that you have, Leliana." she admitted sheepishly. "I'm not a bard, I'm not a spy, I'm no master of the court. I'm a Seeker. A soldier...I tried once already to pry, to figure out who he was, and failed miserably." she hung her head.

     "What did you do, pray tell?" the spy asked, sitting up straight, all ears to Cassandra's response.

     "I may...or may not have...tried to snoop into his personal belongings." she stated with a dry throat, guilt, regret, and shame fueling her words. Leliana looked like she was trying to stifle laughter, making Cassandra draw her lips into a thin line and grip the armrest of her chair.

     "So, that didn't end well, did it?" the spy asked, and Cassandra shook her head.

     "I...tripped over him...and," she groaned. "I fell ontop of him in his tent."

     Leliana slowly started to smile. "Is that all you did to him in his tent?" she asked with a full grin. Cassandra growled.

     "What do you take me for?" she grunted. "You think I would...you...ugh." she rolled her eyes. "I won't lie, he is very handsome, Leliana. I may act without thinking at times. But I'm not stupid."

     "Well, if you tried...I don't think he'd say no. I think he likes you, Seeker." Leliana chuckled. "Hmm, perhaps you can use that. He's spent all this time trying to gain your trust. Perhaps you could return the favor. Get close to him, and see what he's really up to."

     "Are...you being serious?" Cassandra shot out of her chair at the thought. "You're saying I should...what? That I should seduce him? Leliana!"

     "Well, perhaps that's what the Herald's doing with the Warden." Leliana mused. "Getting close to him for information. It's a gutsy move, though, for someone inexperienced with such behavior." she looked the Seeker up and down. "I suppose you're right. You're not cut out for it either." she laughed.

     "I have been a Seeker of Truth, Leliana. And with all the doubts, lies, and deception as of late...perhaps I should simply be honest." Cassandra stretched her aching limbs. It was getting late, and she was tired, confused, and already a smarting headache rose up. "This is not about who to trust. Both mages and Templars perished on that mountain. People on both sides. This is about making decisions that will fix our problems, not make them worse. We both know this, and so does Ophelia. Perhaps, I simply need to make Thane see the same reasoning, and maybe...just maybe he might tell me what's going on."

     "You know, that might just be the best idea you've had all evening, Seeker." Leliana raised a brow. "Plus, I think you're the last person that would ever woo anyone." she poked. "Regardless," she started, more seriously, "Let me know what you manage to learn of him. I'll refrain from looking into him my way, for now. But say the word and I'll have my people onto him." she nodded with her affirmation.

     Cassandra took a deep breath, bid Leliana good night, and made to leave the Chantry.

     Well, first thing to do, she supposed, would be to keep the man's trust. Perhaps, apologize for anything she may have said to offend him? Maybe even see if she couldn't arrange for better sleeping quarters, some place better than that drafty tent by the gate? A cabin would certainly be easier than a tent to search his things...Oh, no. Not that again. No, she wasn't going _there_...No, better that she simply stick to some sort of gesture that would gain his favor. Perhaps Josephine could help with that. That seemed to be her job, as of the moment, knowing ways to gain favor. She happened to be in the office to the right of Cassandra, right at that moment. Probably still awake as well. She edged over to the door and gently knocked, slowly pushing it open when she heard the soft Antivan accent ushering her in.

     "Lady Cassandra." Josephine addressed evenly with a nod. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company at such a late hour?" she asked. "Are you no longer keeping watch on the Apostate?"

     Cassandra shook her head. "I'm not. He's a free man. He's done nothing but help us since he's arrived. Nothing to make me think we cannot trust him." Well, until he gave her some very strange foreboding information about going to Therinfall Redoubt instead of Redcliffe, but..."But, I was wondering what you would suggest I do to get _him_ to trust _me_." she admitted.

     "Why ever do you ask?" Josephine perked up in curiosity.

     "Because he is a mage, surrounded by Chantry forces, in the middle of a mage rebellion, and there is a Breach in the sky of which none of us knows who is responsible for it. And I highly doubt he trusts anyone at the moment."

     "Yes, well..." Josephine shrugged. "I hardly blame him. We are all very mistrusting these days, are we not?" Cassandra nodded. "Well..." Josephine cleared her throat. "Might I suggest you start by being nice to him." she said carefully, and Cassandra gaped at her.

     "I have been." she stated. Josephine grimaced.

     "Well, I don't think your version of niceness is quite the same as anyone else's." she cringed, as if she were bracing herself for Cassandra smacking her for her impertinant statement. Cassandra huffed. "Remember what happened with Lady Trevelyan? She thought you were going to kill her when she woke up at Haven. She was a nervous wreck for three days, you know."

     Cassandra sighed. "I know." she hung her head. "I was only being honest with her, but...I was also very angry...wasn't I?"

     Josephine nodded. "We all were. It's understandable. Everyone we lost, and not knowing who to blame for such travesty. But...you're not angry anymore, Lady Cassandra. Simply determined, as are we all, to find out who is behind all this. Perhaps now, without anger, you can make this Apostate see that it is not mages the Inquisition wars with. But the Breach up in the sky. At least not at the moment, anyway."

     Cassandra shrugged. "Perhaps." she reluctantly agreed, though playing over again in her mind everything Thane said to her earlier. "And perhaps getting him out of that drafty tent, and into better sleeping quarters might help?" she asked. Josephine nodded.

     "That is a fine idea, Seeker." she smiled. "It will be difficult, as we are already stretched thin with arrangements, but..."

     "He can have my cabin." Cassandra suggested. "I will sleep in the Chantry."

     Josephine snorted. "Where? In the dungeon?"

     "If I have to." Cassandra squared her shoulders. "Thank you, Lady Josephine, for speaking with me. Goodnight." she nodded, and turned to leave the room.

     She heard Josephine bid her goodnight as well before stepping out into the hall. Then, once the door was closed, she let out a small groan. People absolutely detested her, didn't they? Because they expected her to behave like Josephine, with smiles and giggles, batting her eyelashes like a young girl and...That was simply not Cassandra. She didn't waste time with pointless pleasantries, though she did grant respect where it was due, and did her duty as it was expected of her. And everything in her told her that this was part of it. To trust in her faith and intuition, that little voice in the back of her mind, Divine Justinia's voice, in fact, telling her to trust in herself. Trust that forming the Inquisition was the right thing. Forming an alliance that would seal the Breach was the right thing. _Getting the job done_ was the right thing.

     But Cassandra Pentaghast did not swoon. And she was most certainly not going to attempt to woo this man like some sort of...well, she didn't really know the right word to use for something like that. But this was no fairytale, this was life. Not a book. As much as she would love to...No. No, she couldn't. She was a Seeker, and now, an agent of the Inquisition. She...she simply didn't resort to such behavior. But if smiling and...'niceness'...were the ways to go about it...it couldn't hurt. It was a start at least.

     She trudged through the snow to where his tent stood by the gate, and thankfully she found him in it. He hadn't run away yet. He kept his word, he would stay. She carefully reached in through the flap and tapped his boot. She gave him quite the fright, and the tent almost collapsed on itself when he tried to look out of it at whoever was poking him. Cassandra couldn't help but feel a small bit of satisfaction by his surprise, as payment for startling her earlier, that afternoon.

     'Ugh' was the noise he made when he noticed it was her, and she didn't know how respond to that, in truth.

     "Get your things, and come with me." she stated, and he wrinkled his face in confusion.

     "Where are we going?" he inquired, and she rolled her eyes a little, hoping he didn't see it in the dimness brought by approaching dusk.

     "You're not sleeping here anymore." she told him as he slowly climbed out of the tent, looping his bag over his shoulder, and securing his staff at his back. "And no, I'm not making you sleep in the dungeon." she smirked. "You can take my cabin. I will make other arrangements."

     "Why?" he asked. Cassandra had to resist releasing an exhasperated noise.

     "Would you rather freeze out here?" she asked.

     "Well, no, but-"

     "Well, come on then." she ushered him through the gate. It was like herding a child. He was confused, and it was written all over his face. She had to wave him through the gate when he wouldn't follow, and she was mere seconds away from grabbing his arm and dragging him through it. Finally he gave in and followed, no doubt giving Cassandra a curious look the whole way up through the village while her back was turned. They stopped at her cabin and she ushered him inside.

     "Why are you doing this?" he asked when she was about to leave, and she sighed at his question. _Honesty, Cassandra. Honesty, remember?_ She turned and closed the door behind her, then stood before him with her arms folded looking him over.

     "Because I want us to be allies." she said. "You did your best to earn my trust, and now I want to earn yours. I want you to see that no one here will treat you any different than any other recruit to the Inquisition. You _must_ see that..." she sighed. "I know I said I would ask no more questions but..."

     "You want to know why I lied about being a Circle mage." he finished the thought.

    "Yes." she said. He sat down on her bed... _his_ bed now.

     "How can you be so sure that I _am_ one, Seeker?" he asked.

     "You have not denied it." she argued calmly.

     "No. No I haven't, have I?" he sighed. "And you want to know why I'm lying to you." he laced his fingers together, mulling the conversation over in his mind, most likely, searching for the right words. "Fine. You want to know the truth, do you? I'll tell you what I can then. But trust me when I say, Seeker, I cannot tell you what you really want to know."

     "Then just tell me this." she narrowed her gaze. "Do you know who is behind the Breach? Do you know who is responsible?" she tried desperately to resist gripping the hilt of her sword as she asked that, and instead clenched her fists, bracing herself for his answer.

     "Yes." he said, looking up at her. With such perfect clarity. No lie whatsoever. He looked her right in the eye with both of his. Both of them, hazel, brown, mixed with flecks of bright green, furrowed brows, a most serious expression on his face. She could swear she'd seen those eyes before. She let out a breath.

     "Who?" she asked. "Who is behind it?"

     "Let the Herald go to Therinfall, and you'll find out." he answered. That irratated her...but, wait a minute.

     " _Let_ her go? What do you mean _let_  her go? She has said nothing about making that choice. I...you spoke to the Herald, didn't you? What has she said to you?"

     "Nothing, Seeker." he relented, shaking his head. "But that's what she'll do. Don't persuade her otherwise."

     "How do you know this?" Cassandra countered, stepping closer to him, and he flopped backward on the bed. Rubbing his face with his hands, as if frustrated.

     "You're not going to let this go, are you?" he asked.

     "No, I'm not." she answered sternly. He let out a groan behind his hands.

     "Look, the Herald doesn't know who I am, but I know of her. She doesn't trust the mages, doesn't trust magic. She will go to Therinfall and attempt to negotiate with the Templars. And when she does...you'll find out who's behind everything. Trust me Seeker, you will. If it makes you feel better, lock me in the dungeon until she returns. But don't go to Redcliffe, and don't tell the Herald about this conversation either."

     "I'm not going to lie to her." she scathed. "What do you take me for?"

     "I never said lie to her. I just said don't tell her." he corrected. "If you do, she'll probably kill me." he chuckled. "Think that I've somehow used evil, dangerous magic to learn of these things."

     "Have you?" Cassandra asked, changing her tune. "Have you used magic to learn these things?" It would certainly explain a lot, if he had. "Perhaps you are truly an Apostate, and no decent man." she barked. "If you would use such methods to pry into a person's welfare."

     He snorted a little. "I haven't." he said. "But it doesn't really matter, now does it? Not when I can tell by the look on your face that you want to know if I'm right, don't you? Trust me, I am."

     That did it. Cassandra drew her sword on him, at those words. He was playing mind games with her now. And this she would simply not tolerate.

     "Cassandra." he put his hand up, a tone of warning in his voice. "Don't."

     She aimed to point the sword at his throat, but...well...

     Her sword dissappeared. Gone. Just...just gone. She stepped back in alarm as Thane slowly rose from the bed. "What did you do?!" she exclaimed, taken completely by surprise with whatever he just did. Though, she couldn't really figure out what he just did. "How did you do that?!"

     "Calm down." he soothed. "Just...calm yourself Seeker."

     She turned to leave the cabin, and get reinforcements, somebody with a bloody sword, but as she reached for the latch on the door, it...dissappeared as well. Into thin air, just like that. With a small 'snap' it was gone, as if it were never there in the first place, and instead there was a closed door with no way to pull it open. She tried to slip her fingers through the crack and pry it, but it wasn't working. She should kick the door down, or more intelligently, call for help, but...she couldn't make herself move for a moment. Or speak. She just stood there, staring at the door, absent of door knob.

     "Where did it go?" she asked venomously as she whipped around to face him, seething with anger, heart thrumming wildly in her chest, her breath getting caught in her lungs as if there was no air in the room.

     "Calm down, or your clothes are next." he said with a smirk, and she growled. Absent of weapon, and a way to escape, no matter. She still had fists. And that was what her gut told her to use. She pounced, knocking him backward onto the bed and pinned him down with her knees in his stomach, raising one fist to punch him, when her glove dissapeared next, and she stared at her hand in surprise for a moment.

     "Stop that!" she barked, reaching behind her for her shield, only to find in that instant, it was gone too, slipped from her grasp right as her hand closed around it. She growled in furstration. It was then that he grabbed both her wrists and flung her down onto the bed, pinning her underneath of him.

     "Let me up or I'll scream." she threatened, and he laughed.

     "No you won't." he argued. "You know I'm not trying to hurt you. Otherwise I would've made _you_  vanish, Seeker."

     He could do that? He could make _people_ dissappear too?

     "I...I..." she stammered, suddenly alarmed by his statement, and at a loss for words.

     And he was on top of her, pressed against her...and this was rather embarrassing. She knew she was blushing just then, thinking about it, as her face got ever so hot. Maker, this man just made half her belongings just...dissappear into thin air. What in Andraste's name...

     "How...how did you do that?" she asked with a softer tone, unable to pull herself from the gaze of his that she found herself caught in. The way he looked at her. It was...

     He let her up. A little. Propping himself on his knees, straddling her, though not letting go of her wrists at present. "I...didn't really mean to, actually." he said with a shrug. "It's a defense mechanism. It just...sort of happens when people point sharp things at me."

     "Where...where did my things go?" she asked then.

     "Well, they're...not here." he said.

     "Well, bring them back." she asserted.

     "It's a lot harder to retrieve things from where they are than to send them there." he relented. "I'm sorry." he sighed. "Serves you right for pointing your sword at an innocent man who's trying to help." he shrugged again, smiling.

     "You're not that innocent." she argued. "Not when you will not tell me how you know the things you know...or even tell me where my things are. Shall I call for the Commander, and have him get the information out of you?"

     He sighed. "You could try...but then I'd simply make _myself_ dissappear." he lifted a brow. "Is it so hard to just have a little faith, Seeker? Give me until tomorrow, at least. Then...do whatever you want with me." he smiled.

     She groaned. She didn't have much of a choice, did she? He was right. She wanted to know if everything he said was true. That Ophelia would go to Therinfall, and discover who was behind the destruction at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. That she would find out who murdered Justinia. And more than anything else, that was what Cassandra wanted to know. But here, sitting ontop of her, pinning her down, asking her to have faith, was an Apostate. Whether he was part of a Circle or not, it didn't really matter did it? Right now, there were no Circles, and no Templars, and there was no order in the ever present chaos brought by the Breach.

     "If I find out your lying, mage," she warned, "I won't lock you in the dungeon. I'll kill you myself."

     "Oh, I have no doubt you'll try." he grinned, then he let her up. Stretching as if fighting fatigue. Then turning to glance at the door. He'd inadvertantly locked both of them inside the cabin by removing the latch, hadn't he? _Simply wonderful_ , Cassandra thought to herself, clenching her jaw. She was stuck with him until morning, and someone happened by that could let them out. If she yelled for help now, whoever came through that door would assume Thane had attacked her and attempt to apprehend him...But if she waited until morning, people would think...Oh Maker. This was going to be a long night.

     "Please tell me you have magic that can unlock that door." she groaned, and he ran a hand through his hair before hiding his face behind it. Suddenly ashamed by what he had done?

     "Um...that would be no, Seeker." he mumbled behind his hand. Cassandra sighed.

     "I'd kick the door down, but I'd wake everyone in Haven." she lamented. "Get some sleep." she gestured to the bed as she sat down in a chair nearby. She watched with one hand over her mouth, intently, as he shirked his boots then set down his bag. She absentmindedly wondered if now would be a good time to ask him about that book he had on him. Of course, she could just wait until he went to sleep, but...No, nevermind. As she stared at the bag, he looked over at her, noticing her eyeing it. And then it dissappeared. She let out a sigh. It only reminded her that he did indeed possess that ability, to make things dissappear, and reminded her that everything that happened just now was not an illusion. It really happened.

     "We're back to square one, Seeker." he noted as he crawled into her bed. "You watching me like a hawk while I sleep?"

     "I can't say I'm not tempted to smother you once you are." she admitted, and he chuckled.

     "Smothered in my sleep by Cassandra Pentaghast." he muttered. "What a way to go."

     Nothing more was said after that as he slowly drifted to sleep. A shame, really. That such a handsome mage had to be such a headache to her. But at least he wasn't an annoyance when he slept. He hardly made a sound. How...How, by the Maker, could someone like him exist? That was the question on Cassandra's mind when she herself finally fell asleep.


	5. Andraste's Oracle

     Cassandra woke up in her bed. Her clothes were still on. Even her boots. And she had _both_ gloves on. For a split second, as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and slowly opened them, she thought all of it had been a dream. Until she saw a mess of long brown hair, hanging loosely, no longer neatly braided, and a blue coat hanging on a chair. Thane was awake already and pouring tea into a cup, and then pouring more into a second cup. How did he know she liked tea? Odd.

     "I managed to retrieve your glove." he said without looking up, stirring two spoonfuls of sugar into each cup, flicking drops of tea from the spoon and setting it onto the table. So it wasn't a dream then. Everything that happened the night before was real, in fact.

     "And everything else?" she mumbled groggily as she sat up a little. He sighed.

     "Still working on that, but...It isn't easy, you know." he said. "And it's driving me absolutely bonkers. That was my favorite book you know. It was even a signed copy. Of course, the writer's a friend of mine, so what does that matter?" he chuckled. "But still...All because you had to be nosey. I always thought Josephine was the nosey one. And Leliana was the snoop. Never pegged you for such behavior." he raised a brow. Then he came over to sit on the bed next to her, handing her a cup. "I didn't know how you liked yours so...I just made it the same as mine."

     Hesistantly Cassandra took the cup, wondering for a moment if it was a good idea to drink it, but...it didn't smell poisoned. It was the same tea he was drinking, from the same pot, and it tasted just fine. In fact, it was splended. She leaned back against the headboard and eyed Thane with curiosity. He was so calm. As if the night before had never happened, though clearly it did, evident by what he just said. And she was too stunned to say anything to him. Briefly wondering if threatening him, or telling the others of him and his curious abilities would do any good. If he would just dissappear anyway.

     "How did I end up in the bed?" she finally asked, and he grinned a little, shaking his head. As if he knew what she was thinking, the words fell out of his mouth.

     "I put you there...with your clothes on...and you stayed that way." he assured. "You think I would let you sleep all night in that chair? I'm more of a gentleman than that, my lady." he leaned his head. Well...at least he'd been a gentleman about it, hadn't he?

     "You're...not going to explain yourself, are you?" she asked, and he shook his head, his expression changing to a bit of a serious one.

     "No. And I probably shouldn't be telling you any of these things either. But...here I am." he smiled. "Telling you that at any moment, the Herald of Andraste is going to come knocking on that door, looking for you," he pointed at her, "to inform you she plans to go to Therinfall. You think I'm joking? I'll bet you five sovereigns she does." he grinned. "I hope you have it on you."

     "And how could you possibly know that? You've been locked in this room all night with me. Even if I believe anything you say, there is no way that you could-"

     Someone knocked on the door. Cassandra's heart pounded at the voice she heard.

     "Seeker?" Ophelia asked from the other side. "Are...are you awake?"

     "One-one moment." Cassandra managed to say, her eyes quickly darting from the door to Thane. With one gesture the cup of tea flew out of her hand, and Thane was being shoved off the bed, his own cup flying off to some place unseen. Perhaps apparated somewhere by accident. He let out a wince as he landed on the floor.

     "The bloody hell, Cass-" he started to say but she clamped her hand over his mouth.

     "Hide under the bed." she scathed.

     "Cassandra? Are you alright?" Ophelia called.

     "I'm...I'm fine!" Cassandra stammered as she forcefully shoved Thane under the bed. He squirmed, and tried to talk behind her hand but she shot him a menacing glare. "There is no way in Thedas the Herald of Andraste is going to come in here and see you in my bed." she seethed quietly. " _Get under the bed_."

     He sighed and rolled his eyes, but scooted himself underneath the bed. Cassandra got up then, attempting to fix her hair, but of course, remembering that the door had no handle. Dammit.

     "I uh...I'm having trouble with the door." she said to Ophelia. "I've locked myself in."

     "Ah. I see." Ophelia remarked, no doubt with a smile, judging by her tone of voice. "That would explain why you haven't come out yet, as late as it is. But...um...Cassandra?"

     "Yes?"

     "How did you lock yourself in...from the inside?"

     "Ugh...the...the handle broke off."

     "Aha." Ophelia snickered. "Give me a moment...I'm...sort of out of practice."

     There was the muffled sound of something being jammed into the key hole after that statement, and a few minutes of awkward silence, as Ophelia attempted to pick the lock on the door, and Cassandra silently prayed Thane didn't make her bed dissappear. Did he actually have control over that? Or was it reflexive, as he said? Oh, she hoped he could control it.

     "My, word, Cassandra." said a surprised Ophelia when she wrenched the door open and saw the absence of a handle on the other side of it. "Why didn't you call for someone?"

     "I...well..." there was a thump, and she knew it was Thane.

     "What was that?" Ophelia asked, looking for the source of the sound.

     "Oh who knows." Cassandra shrugged. "Probably a _rat_." she scathed a little, knowing Thane could hear her. She ushered Ophelia inside and out of the cold, just as a gust of wind decided to remind them both that it was winter outside, and they were nestled in snowcapped mountains, without an ounce of give in the relentless weather. Ophelia fought a shudder, rubbing her shoulders, walking over to the meager stove that, by a miracle, was still lit. Probably thanks to Thane, no doubt.

     "I came to tell you I've decided to go to Therinfall." Ophelia said, as she rubbed her hands together. Cassandra gaped behind her for a moment, before she turned around.

     "You have." Cassandra stated. "You've...decided to ally with the Templars?"

     Ophelia turned to face her. "It's the most logical choice, if you think about it. Just...hear me out." she made a gesture with her hand as if asking if she could sit on the bed, and Cassandra nodded, granting her permission. She flopped down, and by the Maker, Cassandra hoped she crushed Thane, as she sat down beside the Herald, who let out a sigh.

     "Lord Seeker Lucius made an unnecessary show of himself in Val Royeaux." Ophelia stated. "But...Fiona came alone. After the Templars left. Makes sense for her to be wary of the presence of Templars, especially after Lucius declaring his stance on the rebellion, making it quite clear he intended to persue the rebels." she bit her lip. "That's nothing out of the ordinary, but...what I don't understand is..." she scratched her head in thought. "People on both sides were killed in the explosion, Cassandra. Hundreds...thousands, maybe. The body count is still pouring in, according to the others. Whoever was behind it wanted chaos on both sides, that much is evident. It doesn't make sense that Fiona would sacrifice so many of her own, only for the war to continue, then to show up, offering an alliance, to undo what she had done...unless it's a guilty conscience, or covering her mistake, I don't know. But Lucius, on the other hand, was quite satisfied with the war continuing around us. His hatred for mages makes my misgivings with magic seem...trivial. His eyes told me everything I need to know. I may hold no stock in magic, Cassandra, but I don't believe in murdering innocent people simply because they can conjure snowflakes."

     "You think Lucius is behind it?" Cassandra wrinkled her brow. "I highly doubt that he would do such things, Ophelia. It is very out of character for him. That is not the purpose of our Order. We seek peace, justice. We seek the truth. Not unnecessary violence, and hate."

     "You said so yourself in Val Royeaux that he behaved strangely, Cassandra." Ophelia reminded, and Cassandra couldn't argue. "Nevertheless he might know something. He could have been corrupted somehow. I saw his soldiers...Not all of them looked like they were quite so willing to follow him. They looked...frightened, honestly. Same as Fiona. Same as everyone at Haven. As if they know that what he's doing, keeping this war going, ignoring the Breach...is wrong. It's all very suspicious, don't you think?"

     "You have a point." Cassandra agreed. "Though it's hard to imagine what could corrupt a Seeker of Truth. We undergo strict training regimens that make it highly unlikely, but perhaps. We are all capable of one form of corruption or another, every last person in this world is." she shrugged. "But if you think he's behind it, why ally with him?"

     "Because if I'm wrong...or right...I don't know which just yet, but...If the mages were responsible, or otherwise plan an attack, we will need Templars to combat their magic. We can turn them back to their rightful purpose, protecting innocents from dangerous magic. If we find out the Templars are responsible, we can deal with them. Either way, the most imperitive thing is to strike an alliance now, while we have the oppurtunity. Josephine has connections in Orlais that will come forward and aid us, demand that the Lord Seeker act accordingly. It will give me time to persuade his Captain to lend us Templars to close the Breach."

     "That does sound like a good plan." Cassandra eyed the Herald for a moment. "It's hard to believe you're as young as you are. You have a good head on your shoulders." she smirked. "How old are you? I never asked."

     "Heh, how old are _you_ , Cassandra?" Ophelia countered. "I thought us ladies were never supposed to tell our age?"

     "Since when are either of us ladies?" Cassandra nudged her shoulder. "We throw too many men in the dirt to be considered 'ladies'...but good, honest people? That I hope we are. If no one else is willing to be." she felt something nudge her foot, though she wasn't sure which part of Thane it was, and heard the smallest sound of discomfort when she kicked him.

     "Are you alright?" Ophelia asked, furrowing her brow, smiling a little at the corner of her mouth. "You seem...on edge. In fact, you look exactly how I feel at the moment."

     Cassandra sighed. "That's because I am. You...are taking a lot of risks for all of us, you know. After all, it is you who must convince the Templars to ally with us, and if their power can weaken the Breach, it will be you who closes it. You are blessed with the power to help us, but...You know, you are a person. Not just some spirit, or mindless object...I...worry for your sake."

     "I appreciate that. Can I be honest with you?" Ophelia asked. Cassandra nodded. "I'm...I'm just frightened of what would happen should I ask the mages to help me close the Breach...that much magic...Cullen said it could kill me. And to have the rebel mages here, and no feasible number of Templars here to combat their magic should they betray us...I..."

     "They scare you...don't they?" Cassandra put a hand on her shoulder. "Whatever happened to you to make you this way, I wonder?"

     Ophelia took a deep breath through her nose and put on a forced smile. Though still visibly fidgeting, and not willing to divulge an answer.

     "Does it have anything to do with that Apostate you left in my care?" Cassandra asked carefully, ignoring the kick she recieved. "Did he do something to you?"

     Ophelia wrinkled her brow.

     "What? No. Actually he hasn't said a word to me since he's arrived." That was no lie. Cassandra could tell. "He seems rather shy. Nervous I suppose. What with the rebellion going on, I don't blame him. But...if anything, it's people like him that make me appreciate mages, truthfully. It's...not mages I fear. It's not even magic itself. It's dishonest people with unchecked power and evil in their hearts that I fear. Not the evil of magic, but the evil of mankind. Without it...I wonder if demons would exist at all." she leaned her head, contemplating her own words. "Right now, Templars are the more unified group, as far as I've seen, even if their actions are questionable. The way they flock to the Lord Seeker, dutifully, without question, because they are Templars, and that's what they do. We can take their honorable nature, and convince them to fight for a honorable purpose. For the right purpose. I know we can. So that's what we'll do...right? Do...do you think that's what we should do?"

     Again, Cassandra felt Thane under the bed, nudging her foot. He said to agree with her. And what she said made sense. Regardless of the decision made, Cassandra was certain it would be the right one, because Ophelia's heart was in the right place. Even if she was jaded by her personal issues with magic. She wanted as much as Cassandra to close the Breach, bring those responsible to justice, and restore order in this chaotic world.

     "I do." she assured. "I need to see Herrit about a sword, and then...if you wouldn't mind, I should like to accompany you to Therinfall. Perhaps we should take the Warden as well. From what I hear, he's a skilled warrior."

     Ophelia chuckled. "He is." she bit her lip. "You know, he actually stopped an arrow from hitting my face when we met? To think, if not for him, I wouldn't even be here right now. I'll owe him for that, I'm sure." she rolled her eyes and grinned. "Well, at any rate, wish us luck. Maker only knows what tomorrow will bring."

     She patted Cassandra on the shoulder before rising from the bed and leaving the cabin. She laughed a little and shook her head at the missing door knob. Cassandra smiled sheepishly as she left, but as soon as she was gone, and the door was shut, not completely, but mostly, Cassandra shot up and moved to rip Thane out from under the bed. He was grinning when he crawled out and stood up.

     "Shit, I was right." he chuckled. "He saved her life, and you owe me five sovereigns." he held out his hand expectantly. She slapped it down.

     "I owe you no such thing." she menaced as she snatched him up by the collar. "Go ahead! Make me dissappear! Because if you don't, and I find out you're behind all of this, I'll gut you like a fish and toss your body off a very steep cliff!"

     She pushed him backwards toward the bed, and he flounced on it, then fell, when the bed dissappeared, groaning and clutching his side. "Maker, you've got to be kidding me!" she wailed.

     "I'm...I'm so sorry." he clamped his hand over his mouth. "I'm so sorry." he said again, muffled by his hand.

     "It really is involuntary, isn't it?" she asked, throwing up her hands in defeat. "You know what, I'm just going to leave, right now, and speak to Herrit." she assured herself calmly, taking deep breaths. "Before the cabin dissappears."

     "Seeker, I-" he started to say, but she put her hand up.

     "No." she closed her eyes, willing herself not to choke this man. "You seem to know several puzzling things that you shouldn't know, mage. Was it the Warden you spoke to?" she shook her head. "Nevermind. I'll find out for myself. I suggest you make yourself useful. You're going to stay right here at Haven while I'm gone. And you're going to keep you're mouth shut. We'll pretend this never happened. And I swear," she narrowed her eyes, pointing her finger, wishing she could choke him, "If my bed is not where it should be when I get back, _I'll_ make _you_ dissappear."

     "Yes, ma'am." Thane bit out, wide eyed. "My word you're attractive when you're angry." he joked nervously.

     "Ugh." she groaned, rolling her eyes, leaving the room before she really did kill him.

* * *

      _"I'm worried about him, Thom." Mum said in the kitchen. "He hasn't eaten in three days, and he refuses to leave his room. He's so afraid that he'll make one of us vanish if he so much as touches us, or worse. That he'll vanish, and won't be able to find his way back."_

_Dad sighed. "It's because he doesn't know how to control it."_

_"Yes. And Viv can't help. She can teach him how to control his other abilities, but...she can't teach him about this. And neither can I. I barely understand it myself."_

_"What about the Well? Did it show you anything?" Dad asked, but Mum shook her head._

_"There's only one person that can teach him, and I would kill him if he so much as got within ten feet of Gordon." Mum menaced, though Gordon, who was eavesdropping, had no idea who she was talking about. "It can't be reversed. We're lucky it isn't killing him. I think it's because it's apart of him. It bonded with him, whereas it would kill anyone else. It...changed him."_

_"What are you saying?" Dad asked, alarm in his tone. "That he's not our son? That he's...something else because of it?"_

_"No. No I'm not saying that." Mum corrected. "I'm saying that he's still a human being, and he's still a mage. But...he's a mage that can do more than just draw power from the Fade, Thom."_

_"He's just a boy, Ophelia." Dad said, running a hand through his shaggy hair, worried. Worried for Gordon and his strange power...Strange, even for a mage._

_"And he's still our boy, Thom." Mum comforted him, putting her hand on his cheek. "But this will be hard for him." she laughed a little. "Imagine how hard it would be for him had we not convinced Viv to reformate the Circles?...I'll right a letter to Sera. Let her know what's going on. She can let me know if anything happens to him...That is...if he still wants to go to Val Royeaux. A week ago he couldn't wait. He kept going on about meeting 'Mum's famous friends'." she smiled, but the smile quickly faded. She knew someone else besides Dad heard what she said. "Gordon?...How long have you been standing there?"_

_"Mum? Dad?...What am I?"_

* * *

     Oh, Gordon was most certainly doomed. But...he hadn't dissappeared yet, or ceased to exist. Though, if he continued to irratate the Seeker, he wouldn't have to worry about changing the future, or keeping himself from being born. She'd make him wish he'd never been born, wouldn't she? And by the grace of Andraste, was she beautiful when she threatened him.

     He had a solid idea that the only reason she hadn't taken him prisoner or tried to kill him was because he'd undoubtedly get out of it. Whether on purpose, or by accident, he'd use his power to weasle his way out of confinement and take off. As to the reason she hadn't told his mother about what he could do? Ah, well, that was a bit more difficult to figure out, but...she wanted him to stay, for some reason. Though he couldn't be sure why. Perhaps she felt he was useful somehow. Or, which was more likely, perhaps she figured if she brought the Templar army to Haven, it would frighten him? Because he was a Circle mage who ingested Lyrium, and Templars could track him? Oh, if only he could explain to her just why that wouldn't work. When in fact he didn't even exist until 9:43. Rather difficult to track a mage who didn't exist yet. What person in this timeline even possessed powers that could figure him out?

     No, he didn't know why she wanted him to stay, but he knew why he needed to. Regardless. He'd backed himself into a corner by telling Cassandra all that he had, just to keep her from changing history and pushing his mother toward rebel mages. Of course, who knew if it would really change anything, considering who was really behind the Breach, but...if certain things didn't happen, and his parents didn't fall for one another, he truly would be erased, wouldn't he? Perhaps that was why he was sent back? Because something had happened, some sort of hiccup in time, and he needed to fix it?...Or was that just the excuse he made up? If he hadn't been there, Cassandra never would have said to him that he was just the person she needed to convince Ophelia to ally with mages. Yes, undoubtedly just an excuse then. It was all his own fault if Gordon Rainier never became anything more than just a twinkle in the Warden's eye, dammit. And more over, if he didn't ensure that things happened exactly the way they were supposed to...Would Ophelia still succeed at defeating her nemisis that waited in the shadows?

     This was all a lot to take in, but...No, no he had it. He knew what he would do. He would give Cassandra way too much information, the exact opposite of what he should do, and convince her he could see the future. That he was an oracle. And he'd get to keep pestering her. Learning from her, learning who she really was, where he couldn't before. There, that was it. Thane the Seer would be born. Gordon smiled a victorious smile at that thought, before his face turned to a wince at the thought of how difficult it was going to be to pull Cassandra's bed back from the Fade.


	6. Interference

     Cassandra couldn't breathe. Either it was all a coincidence, or...

     _Maker only knows what tomorrow will bring_...

     He knew what was going to happen, didn't he? How did he know? Exactly what she was going to say? Almost word for word? And what she planned to do?...He very well could have been behind the Conclave, and therefore he knew who was behind it, because he was behind it. Was it stupid for her to let him see that she was onto him? She'd probably live to regret saying all the things she said, but...She didn't have it in her to be deceptive like Leliana. It was Leliana's position to spy and gather information, not hers. Her purpose was to do what she'd always done, root out corruption and deal with it however she had to, and to get to the heart of things, hang it out to dry. None of that cloak and dagger business. To do what needed to be done.

     Well, what needed to be done at the moment was traveling to Therinfall keep. She promised herself she would not let Ophelia venture out on her own again, unprotected. So that's what she would do, and Thane's peculiar magic and knowledge could wait. If she learned he was responsible for their problems, she'd do what needed to be done when the time came, and see that justice was served. But...what if she had it all backwards? What if he really was trying to help?

     She caught the tail end of the conversation between the Herald and the Warden when she finished tasking Herrit with forging her a new blade. Peculiar conversation, she had to admit.

     "I think that would be a waste of your particular talents, Warden." Ophelia cracked a smile as she said this to Blackwall.

     "How so?" he inquired with a smile of his own.

     "You're much better suited to standing in front of dragons while they try to eat you." she jeered, making Blackwall belt out a laugh. Then they just stared at one another for a moment, before Ophelia finally dismissed herself from his company. She stopped smiling when she passed by Cassandra at the blacksmith's station, and curtly nodded to the Seeker as she went. Cassandra did the same, hoping Ophelia didn't notice her spying on her again. In truth, she wasn't. She simply overheard, nothing more. But Blackwall was still standing by the stone enclosure, leaning against it. Alone, giving Cassandra the perfect opportunity to intrude. Perhaps see if he had spoken to Thane, or if Thane told him something he shouldn't have, if he wanted to keep his head on his shoulders.

     She slowly approached, watching him just as he turned to stare once more at the ever present Breach in the sky. It was terrifying, honestly. To see it there, to be reminded that it was real, and it was what everyone in that village worked so diligently to prepare for.

     "Are you two related?" Blackwall asked, without looking her direction, but since no one else was near, Cassandra supposed he was asking her that. Then he turned around, looking her right in the eye. As if he knew she was there, and she wasn't fooling anyone. "You and the Herald have some common ticks about you, you know." he smirked. "Both of you watching me like a hawk." he chuckled. "You related?"

     "Not that I know of." Cassandra remarked, folding her arms, continuing to walk toward him, then stopping to stand in front of him, and study him for a moment.

     "Could have fooled me." he responded to her statement, shrugging. "So, you're Cassandra Pentaghast, I presume?" he asked, and she nodded. "Well, good to meet another respectable woman in this place." he nodded. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Seeker?"

     "I'm...curious." she began, still stewing a little on the remark that she was respectable, and he thought she was related to the Herald. It was believable. They were a lot alike in some aspects. Shared similar views. "How much do you know of Lady Trevelyan?"

     He shrugged. "Not much, really. She...doesn't open up much, does she? Can't, for the life of me, get her to talk about herself...Guess I can relate to that." he muttered the last part, then sighed. "How about you? How much do you actually know about your Herald of Andraste, Seeker?"

     "I know enough." she said. He chuckled.

     "I bet." he remarked, then he turned back to look at the menace in the sky once more. "She's a good girl, Seeker. There's no way she's responsible for that." he nodded to the Breach. "You know that, don't you? Thus the reason you don't have her in a dungeon in shackles, do you?"

     "I believe she is innocent, yes." she relented. "I believe there is more going on than any of us realize."

     "I'm inclined to agree...And it pisses me off. That my brethren are missing at a time like this. Grey Wardens could serve your Inquisition well, Seeker. But they're not here, are they? The Chantry running around in circles, like chickens with their damn heads cut off...The rebellion causing a stir. Too much shit being stirred." he spat. "Pardon me, Seeker. That's no way to speak in front of a lady such as yourself."

     "You're angry. I understand." she stated evenly. "We have every reason to be angry."

     "Lady Trevelyan more than anyone." Blackwall raised a dark, curious brow. Funny, he sort of looked like..."Word is the mark on her hand can close the Breach, yet _she's_ the one the Chantry's trying to condemn. If I were in her place, I wouldn't be angry, Seeker. I'd be royally pissed beyond belief. But no. Here she is, keeping her head together, taking it in stride."

     "She doesn't care of the rumors the Clerics spread. Only of closing the Breach." Cassandra remarked. Blackwall shook his head.

     "And I can hardly believe it. She's...she's so..." he sighed, waving off whatever he was about to say. The look on his face said something though. Something about his eyes, and the way they lit.

     "You're fond of her, aren't you?" Cassandra blurted out the question. "I...I'm curious."

     "Protective of her, I see." he commented. "I can tell by the look on your face. You don't like me, and you don't like me carrying on conversations with her. At all. Have no fear of me Seeker, I doubt that girl is interested in getting involved with the likes of me." he chuckled.

     "Is that so?" Cassandra lifted a brow at this information. "You're interest is purely professional then?"

     He shrugged. "I wouldn't say that, but...between you and me, Seeker, I offered to join the Inquisition so I could keep an eye on her. She's young. She barely looks old enough to fight, whether with Wardens, Templars, or in this Inquisition of yours. Someone capable needs to be watching her back."

     "Well, you and I can certainly do that. We will be leaving soon, embarking for Therinfall Redoubt. It would be good if you would accompany us, Warden." she suggested.

     "Aye, I can certainly do that." he nodded. "I'll keep my blade sharp, and eyes sharper, if you're planning what I think your planning. Word is your Order took control of the Templars. Bloody interesting of a fight that will be if they turn on us." he rubbed his chin. "Say the word when we leave."

     "I will...And...might I make a suggestion, Warden." Cassandra stepped closer, speaking a little mutedly. "It would be wise to keep your...involvement with the Herald as a professional one. She is the Herald of Andraste, she will be an influence, and inspiration to us all in the days to come. And you will have other duties when your services are no longer needed by the Inquisition. Keep that in mind. And remember where your duty is, when the time comes."

     He huffed. "Aye. I will, Seeker." he said, though certainly not happily. He shot her a glare just then that would send shivers down a demon's spine, most likely. She simply nodded, and parted company with the Warden. Feeling a little victorious, for the moment. There was no way she was going to allow this man to get his paws on Ophelia Trevelyan. A decent warrior yes, a Warden yes...But not the kind of man Ophelia should be dealing with. Cassandra had a gut feeling. And so far, at every turn, her intuition proved right.

     Of course, where Thane was concerned, once again, intuition struck. Blackwall didn't know the things about Ophelia that Thane did. So...how did he know? That was the one million sovereign question she was dying to have answered.

* * *

     Gordon watched from his position, leaning against the cold stone of the Chantry temple, as the entourage of soldiers left the village. They'd be halfway across Ferelden by nightfall at the speed of which they galloped away, wasting no time, once a decision had been made by the Herald of Andraste.

     He said nothing to the Seeker before she departed. He didn't need to say anything. He had a feeling that she wanted to know if he was telling the truth, humoring him, curious to all end, and she'd find out for herself soon enough. Though he was curious as to how she would react to what she would learn at the Templars' stronghold, provided everything played out the same. He was curious what she would do with him. If she would believe the farfetched idea that he could see the future. Surely she would. It wasn't like it was impossible for a gifted individual to do. It was just...well, sort of jaded of a subject. Controversial, even in his time, even though so much had changed in thirty years. One thing that didn't change, the struggle over whether it was ethical to divinate, or whether a person should even attempt to change anything, provided they could actually see what was coming. Or if it were even possible at all. Chantry members liked to think they could, but...

     Funny, that Gordon never gave much thought to that, until now. He always believed in fate. In destiny, and the idea that no matter what a person did, they couldn't change the past, much less change their future. Everyone had a path to follow, a destiny, a piece of the grander design set in motion by the Maker. But...yet, there he was, stuck thirty years into the past, with the ability to shape the events to come. Unless this was a parallel world, in which nothing he did would actually effect his own future, because this was an alternate timeline, a separate past entirely. He wouldn't know unless he actually changed anything. Insofar, he didn't think he did, but in fact, may or may not have been aiding to set things on their proper course. Oh, it was too much to think about. Too many trails of thoughts that split off in too many different directions. Maker, he needed a drink.

     He managed to retrieve all of Cassandra's belongings, including the latch on her door, and was finished setting everything in place, neatly on the bed, but when he turned to leave the cabin, there, standing in the open doorway was a red haired woman, hood drawn over her head. No...it couldn't be...No, it most certainly was. It was Victoria. He almost didn't recognize her at first, until those blue eyes of hers poured over him. So young, so bright. As blue as his jacket, and how they stared intently at him while she leaned against the doorframe.

     Oh this was certainly going to be interesting of an encounter, as she blocked his exit. This was not the calm, gentle, understanding woman that he knew in the future. No, this was Leliana the Nightingale, left hand of the Divine, and the Inquisition's Spymaster. This woman that seemed to suck the air out of the room was hardened as stone. This woman played the game, and played it well, and if he didn't know any better, she'd play him right under the table. But he knew better. After all, she taught him herself, didn't she? And he was no longer nervous, no longer unsure of himself, and knew exactly what he intended to do. There would be no mistakes this time. So...what was her angle?

     "I was hoping to find you here." she said, a calm expression masking her emotions.

     "Sister Leliana, I presume." he said, equally as void of emotion as her, as if he didn't know who she was, and hadn't known of her for the last twenty years, though putting on a friendly smile. "I don't believe I've yet had the pleasure of speaking with you face to face. To what do I owe this meeting?"

     "Well, I was simply curious of the man who has Seeker Pentaghast in such a state of unrest." she smirked a little, though the smile never touched her eyes. Then she looked him over. "Free Marcher, I presume?"

     "Technically. I was born in Ferelden, but raised in Kirkwall." he spoke truth, sort of. What better way to spin a story than bend the truth a little, as Varric always said. It was better than lying. It was believable.

     "Ah." Leliana simply mouthed, nodding a little. Still standing in the doorway, still assessing his appearance. Noting his clothing, that he saw no point in changing now, as it was far too late. This was what the soldiers brought him to Haven wearing. The style of it, the fabric, the blatant embellishment, though most likely she'd never seen such craftsmanship in clothing. The likes of it didn't exist at all. At least not yet. She'd assume it was Orlesian, yes?...Yes, she did.

     "Spend some time in Orlais?" she asked. Why yes, yes he had. He nodded.

     "There's nothing more intimidating than Orlesian politics." he smirked, though his smile didn't touch his eyes either, much like hers. He was a mirror, reflecting her composure, folding his arms.

     "Have any family?" she asked then, and he nodded, though he stopped smiling. She was going to ask of them and he was going to have to lie. What should he say? Ah. Never mind. There it was. Her gaze softened, just...just slightly. This was her angle.

     "You lost your family in the rebellion, didn't you?" she asked. No, but he did lose his family. He was a long way from home, and the family he remembered. The parents he remembered weren't there at Haven, and in their place, a young, vibrant, but mistrusting Herald, and a suspicous Warden, hiding incredulous secrets. His face tightened into a frown. She didn't know this, and assumed his parents were mages, killed by Templars maybe? Or simply killed protecting him? Something of the sort.

     "I have no one left." he said. "So, Sister, what really brings you here to converse with an Apostate?"

     "Just wondering if that's all there is to know about you." she answered. "So, I had a theory that your family moved to Kirkwall to escape the Blight, and when the rebellion erupted, you were forced right back into Ferelden. It's a shame, if it's true. But you've lost everyone? I'm sorry to hear that. We've all lost so much, and now, with the Breach ever near us, makes a person wonder what's the point, doesn't it? Where is the Maker now, when we need him?...And that's why you came? Because your faith calls you to the Herald of Andraste, no? Mine does as well. But you need not lie about what you are, mage. Here, any who are willing to stand against the chaos in the distance are welcome within Haven's walls."

     Everything that just fell out of her mouth was in earnest. She was being honest. Well, she made it evident she thought he was lying. The only way she could think he was lying about anything was if the Seeker said something to her.

     "What makes you think I'm lying, Sister?" he asked with an innocent gaze.

     "Because you're telling the truth. Twisting the truth is a very effective way of lying." she answered. He smiled a little.

     "Well, I was taught by the best." he joked, and she simply stared at him. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say...The Seeker has you convinced that I'm a Circle mage, masquerading as a lone, wandering Apostate who simply wanted to lend a hand where it was needed. And you think I fled Kirkwall, joined the rebellion, and what? That I lied about who I am because there is a Breach in the sky of which no one knows who is to blame for it, and there are those that point their swords at magic as the culprit? Would make sense...if it were true."

     "Close." she admitted. "Though, I know for certain you weren't in Kirkwall during the rebellion. Ostwick? Would explain how you know the Herald."

     "And what makes you think I do?" he asked.

     "A hunch." Leliana shrugged.

     "Well, I do know _of_ her. Though she doesn't know me. And you and I both know that's no lie. Yes, I was in Ostwick. Ask anyone who has ever been to a party in Ostwick and they'd know who Ophelia Trevelyan is...Sent away to a private 'school' at fifteen..." he edged closer to where Leliana stood. "Ten years later she comes back, has a falling out with her parents, Lord and Lady Trevelyan...Ring any bells? The sole survivor of the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I've heard that she's also been branded the culprit by some. The Chantry believes she's a murderer. Though the people say 'She's the Herald of Andraste', for there was a woman seen behind her in the rift she supposedly fell out of. The woman is believed to be Andraste herself, though...I wonder of the truth in that. Same as you. Same as anyone here."

     "Yes it seems everyone's faith is being tested, these days." Leliana mused, still looking him over.

     "But now is precisely the time to have faith." he asserted with a small smile at the corner of his mouth. She shrugged and nodded a little, as if reluctantly agreeing.

     "You haven't disproven my theory yet." Leliana stated coolly. "The Herald could be lying when she says she doesn't know you."

     "Yes, but the Herald's never lied to you, Sister, has she? As far as you know. Thus the reason everyone here believes she's innocent. She's a pious girl, and she only wants to put the world back in order. She will. Have some faith." he smiled.

     "Yes and what of you? Is your faith the reason you insisted the Seeker go to Redcliffe?...Whatever you're hiding, it will be discovered eventually. You might as well be honest. So...did you betray Fiona?"

     Gordon sighed. "You can't just simply trust that I'm here to help, can you?...No." he shook his head. "I didn't betray Fiona. Fiona wouldn't know my face if she saw it. None of the mages in Redcliffe would." he shrugged.

     "But you know what they're up to?" she asked. "What they're planning?"

     "You'll find out what I know when the Seeker returns." he replied. With no sarcasm, no malice, and no ill intent in his voice. At least, he hoped he sounded like he didn't have any.

     "Did you lead them into a trap?" Leliana asked, changing her tune, wrinkling her brow. He let out an exasperated sigh.

     "No. I led them to the truth." he affirmed, folding his arms again, glaring at her. "I have no doubt that if the Seeker isn't satisfied with what she learns, she'll deal with me. But trust me when I say, you're going to need me when the time comes, Sister. There is a war coming. I suggest you stop interrogating me, and prepare for it."

     He darted around her, but she put a hand on his arm to stop him for a moment.

     "Thane isn't even your real name, is it, mage?" she asked then, with an air of something in her voice that said she was onto him, or thought she was, at least. He let out a sigh, and finally lied, seeing it as the best option at the moment.

     "I'd tell you my real name if I knew what it was." he said, with sadness, knowing that at this point in their game, she was likely to buy it, or consider it at least.

     He made to leave the room, and surprisingly, she didn't stop him. Simply watched as he walked out the door and into the cold, aiming to put as much distance between himself and the questioning spy. Oh he knew for certain she wouldn't give up. Even if she slacked off with her questioning, she would still use her agents to dig into things, try and find out who he really was. He was curious. What would she actually learn? If anything at all? Hard to find out juicy details of a nameless man that didn't exist. Unless there was another Apostate mage out there somewhere with the name 'Thane', and she confused him for this man. Or brought that man to Haven, and accused him of impersonating him. The odds of that happening were slim, but it was an interesting thought nonetheless. In a way, he'd have more in common with his father than he already had, wouldn't he? As if he wasn't exactly like his father right now. Pretending to be something he wasn't. Not completely, nor relentlessly lying about who he was, but nevertheless withholding the truth. Was it a family trait that he inherited?

     He found himself in the tavern at dusk, with a drink in his hand, running his fingers through his hair, mulling this over. All of it, just...just all of it. Completely insane, wasn't it? That he was there in the first place, and intended stay, to see this through. He almost choked on his drink when he snickered out loud, laughing at himself and this insanity. It was going to be a very long night, wasn't it?


	7. Old Friends and New Things

     "I don't understand, Most Holy, how could my existence be part of the Maker's plan?" ten year old Gordon asked, picking at his brown shirtsleeve, staring at it, refusing to look Victoria in the eye. There she sat at the desk before him, covered in white and red, sitting straight in her chair, hands folded in her lap, her crystal blue eyes pouring over him. It felt awful to be stared at. He hated being stared at. It only reminded him that he was different.

     "Because _everything_ is part of the Maker's plan, Gordon." she answered him, a warm smile filling her features. "Once upon a time I was in your shoes, you know." she said softly as sat back in the chair. "Did you know that your mother and I were friends? We worked closely with one another before you were born."

     "I know." he muttered. "She said you were the Spymaster for the Inquisitor. She told me all about the Inquisition. You were her spy."

     "I was. Back then, my name was Leliana. I was much different than I am now. I was...lost. Questioning my beliefs, wondering if there was a point to all of this, when so much darkness threatened to swallow the world. Where was the Maker when we needed him, I wondered. Was senseless bloodshed, war, and hatred the only answer he would give us? I was afraid." she stood up then, walking around to the front of the large oak desk, Gordon instinctively cringing when she got to close, afraid to let her touch him. Afraid of what he might do. "Do you know why your mother brought you here, Gordon?"

     "No." he answered.

     "Because you are afraid." she answered. "You are afraid of yourself, and your gifts, because you don't understand them. You doubt that you will ever control them. That you will ever be able to live a normal life. But fear and doubt are the enemies of faith, Gordon." she put a hand on his shoulder, and he flinched at first. But he calmed when she gently rubbed his shoulder, much like his mother did, comforting him. "You must not be afraid. You must have faith." she soothed. He bit his lip as tears threatened to fall.

     "I can't stop being afraid. And the demons on the other side know it. They're waiting for me. They wait for me to fall asleep, so that they can chase me, because I can't control it when I sleep." he choked up. Victoria knelt before Gordon and lifted his chin with her finger, forcing him to look her in the eye.

     "Do you know what you are?" she asked.

     "A monster." he sobbed angrily, gripping the arms of the chair. She shook her head.

     "No. I don't think you are." she said. Just then, his mother came in the room, and gut wrenching tears began to fall. 

     "How can I not be?" he sobbed, as Victoria stood up, absentmindedly ruffling his dark hair with her gentle hand as his mother approached, a look of pity and sadness on her face. "I'm not going to Val Royeaux, Mum." he sobbed. "You can't make me!" he pulled away when she reached out for him. He was upset, and when he was upset things vanished. He didn't want it to be her. He didn't want her to vanish too.

     "No one's going to make you go, Gordon." his mother soothed. "But you are a mage, and you must learn about your magical abilities so that you can control them."

     "I want to go home!" he sobbed. Then the chair vanished from underneath of him, sending him to the floor, hugging himself. "Don't touch me!" he wailed. Victoria and his mother backed away.

     "It's your emotions that trigger this power, Gordon." Victoria spoke calmly, repeating what his mother told him frequently before they came, assuring her that Victoria could help him understand his emotions. But she was wrong, wasn't she?

     "It's your fear of what you will do that controls this power. But you can control it, by letting go of your fear of it. It is apart of you."

     "I don't want it." he muttered, trying to make himself stop crying. He was crying in front of the Divine. He was crying in front of Leliana the Nightingale. This had to be the most embarrassing thing in the entire world. His mother pulled the Divine to the side, and spoke quietly with her. But of course, Gordon could still hear what she was saying.

     "We'll have to try something else, I suppose." she said to Victoria, who sighed. They were both hoping that speaking to the Most Holy, and meeting one of his mum's famous friends would lift his spirits, and perhaps help him. His mother had been praying that Victoria would have something to say that would get through to him, but she didn't.

     "You could lock me in a tower and throw away the key." Gordon spat from his spot on the floor where he pulled his knees up to his face, wrapping his arms around them, and buried his head. He heard his mother sigh.

     "This isn't the old days, Gordon. No one's locking you away. You're a person, not an animal." she reminded. "He's been reading about the original Circles, everything he can get his hands on, twice." he heard her tell Victoria. "He's convinced that he's proof that the Circles should go back to their old traditions, before the mandates." she sighed, and then chuckled half-heartedly. "Everything he touches...the only things that haven't disappeared are his books. He loves to read. Obsessed with books about the Inquisition. That's why I thought coming here, meeting you, might help."

     "Hmm." he heard Victoria hum in thought. "You like to read about the Inquisition?" she asked, and he grumbled behind his knees. "What books have you read?"

     " _'Fall of a Magister'_ , _'A Bard's Recollection'_ , volumes one and two, _'Brief Moment in Time'_ , and _'A Shadow in the Dark'_." he answered solemnly, rattling off the names, slowly looking up to see the Divine forming a smile at the corner of her mouth.

     "Have you read any books by Varric Tethras?" she asked.

     "We don't have any copies at home." his mother explained.

     "Yes we do." Gordon said to the Divine. " _Cloak & Dagger_." His mother's expression turned to one of shock. The Divine chuckled.

     "How did you know about that book?" his mother questioned, her cheeks turning red.

     "I found it in your dresser." he admitted. "It's...I snuck it into my luggage. I only just started reading it."

     "Gordon!" his mother chastised. "That's...that's a very personal...and very _grownup_ book. You shouldn't be reading that."

     "I'm only up to chapter five, _'No Way Out'_." he relented. "Did you really order Dad to leave you behind?"

     His mother smeared a hand across her face, peeking between her fingers to see Victoria's face. "You read it, didn't you?"

     "I did." Victoria laughed. "He sent me a copy before I was elected. I didn't know what I was getting myself into until I was already halfway through it. I forced myself to finish it. Choked through the ending." she turned to Gordon. "What do you think of it so far?" she asked him.

     "I like it. But...I wish there was more about the Seeker. I like her."

     "You do?" Victoria asked. He nodded.

     "What happens to her? I mean...I know what happened, but...does the book say how it happened?" he turned to his mother. "Please can I finish it? I like the way Mister Tethras wrote it."

     "Would you like to meet him?" Victoria asked him, though she turned to his mother when she asked that, who stared back at her for a moment, then glanced at him.

     "You...you think that's a good idea? You think it will help?" his mother asked, and Victoria nodded.

     "And I bet he can tell you more about Seeker Pentaghast too. He had quite the history with her." she winked at his mother.

     "You know, a visit to Kirkwall could be good for all of us. Maybe visit to Ostwick as well?" his mother smiled at Gordon. "Your grandparents have been dying to see you. I'm sure they'd love too. Shall we...talk to your father about it?"

     Gordon shrugged. "Alright." he said, as if it didn't matter. But it did matter. "Can...Can I finish reading _Cloak_?" he asked, giving his best puppy dog eyes, the look his mother always fell for. The same face Dad made at her, and she always gave in. She rolled her eyes.

     "Maybe." she narrowed her gaze. "I'll think about it."

     Gordon smiled. He knew what that meant. She would say yes. Maybe not right away, but eventually she would. She never told Dad no when she said that. But of course, Dad saved her life too many times for her to ever tell him no. And he never let her forget it. Victoria walked over to him, holding out her hand, trusting him. She believed in him, didn't she? She wasn't afraid of him. He took a deep breath, and took her hand, letting her help him up from the floor.

     "I'm...I'm sorry about your chair." he mumbled. "Was it expensive?"

     "It's just a chair, Gordon." she smiled. "Chairs can be replaced." she ruffled his hair again, and then spoke quietly. "But there is no replacing you. You're far more important than that chair. Far more than you can understand now. Give it time. And have a little faith." she winked.

* * *

     It was hard to believe that Leliana was that same woman that had such faith in Gordon all those years ago...all those years from now. 

     But, it made sense. Perhaps, as Ophelia had yet to find her faith, right now, at this moment, Leliana had yet to find hers. She was a driven individual. She'd seen a lot. Even then, as young as she was, there at Haven, and no doubt already inquiring of agents that could tell her what she wanted to know about 'Thane'. As young as she was then, she was still older, and no longer the bright, curious bard she had been when she encountered the Hero of Ferelden. She'd lost a lot, and wanted so desperately to believe. Needed a reason to keep her faith. Gordon was certain she'd find it, eventually. Given time, Leliana would see just what the Maker had in store for them all.

     Provided Gordon didn't accidentally change it.

     A bell sounded in the distance, and he was quite certain he knew what that meant. He got up from his chair in the Seeker's cabin, or was it his cabin now, he couldn't be sure. He stuffed _Cloak_ back into his bag, tossed the bag into the air, and watched as it disappeared, as if falling through something unseen, before stepping outside, shivering from the cold.

     Ahead of the quaint legion of Templars was the Herald of Andraste, accompanied by Seeker Pentaghast and Warden Blackwall. Looking less than victorious, as she had just learned of the corruption taking place at Therinfall, most likely, and as for Cassandra, she dismounted at the stables, and as the parade of soldiers scurried off to their duties, securing food and drink for the weary Templars, their leader, Sir Barris, Gordon guessed, now in deep discussion with Commander Rutherford...the Seeker made a beeline for Gordon. He put on an air of calm, tranquility, though inwardly bracing himself for a slap, almost instinctually now. She had that look about her, anyway. He was standing by the gate, watching soldiers walk past, the Templars ignoring him completely, as if he were invisible. Perhaps they were warned that there were mages that already allied with the Inquisition, and these were men and woman that no longer believed their fight was with mages. Fully prepared to use their abilities to combat the Breach. Cassandra folded her arms, sighing, her breath forming a mist around her in the frigid air, shaking her head.

     "Come to put me in chains?" he asked quietly when she was close enough. She shook her head.

     "Not yet." she answered, causing him to raise a quizzical brow.

     "No? I thought for sure you'd have some sort of excuse or another." he chuckled.

     "Wouldn't do me any good." she scoffed, staring off into the distance, the lake and the wind that scurried across it, stirring up the snow. "The Templars were led astray." she said after a moment. "They were being corrupted by something, and you knew this, didn't you? They didn't cause the Breach, and neither did the mages. The same corruption was at the Temple. That thing, whatever it is...it set this all in motion. And you knew, didn't you? You knew it wasn't the Herald?...And you know who it is. Because you saw it happen."

     Gordon could say nothing. Watching as Cassandra let out a sigh.

     "Am I right?" she asked. "I'm right, aren't I? You didn't have anything to do with this, but you came here to _help_ us, because you already saw it happen. And you know what's going to happen. So, tell me, since you're some sort of seer, Thane. What's going to happen next?"

     "What do you think, Seeker?" he asked. "You're going to close the Breach."

     "And you're sure of this?" Cassandra asked shakily, wiping sweat from her brow, and Gordon realized how disturbed she was. Shaken, covered in muck, red cheeks and nose, sniffing for a moment, sick maybe? Tired, and sick, that's what it was. And worried. Worried to all end that she was crazy for believing such a thing?...But she _did_ believe it. 

     "As you said, Seeker, I already saw it happen." he answered. "Come on, you look hungry. So am I, let's get something to eat."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The book names are totally made up, but Fall of a Magister is a nod to "Fall of the Magister", a bard's song from the Inquisition soundtrack, that's available for download from EA Games)


End file.
